Valentine's Day II: My Hair Is Down
by BLFBH
Summary: It's Valentine's Day yet again, and Arnold's scheme has worked... but will he like the effects? RR, please, the date has arrived!
1. Somewhere Out There Our lady Peace

My Hair Is Down

I know that it is soooooo late for a Valentine's Day fan-fiction, but I totally forgot about the day! * Stupid us, stupid us! * Anyway, here is our Valentine's Day story. * Tell us if it is good! We didn't see the episode because of last minute re-scheduling Nick did, so that's three or four years we haven't seen it! *

* This is just a short little prologue, but we tried to make it look sophisticated. We are making the titles the names of our favorite songs! *

Disclaimer: Any characters, items, logos, or ideas used in this piece of work are the soul property of Viacom, Snee-Osh productions, Nickelodeon, and Craig Bartlett. Briana L.F.B.H. and Phebga are not employees of Nickelodeon and have nothing to do with the distribution or creation of Hey Arnold. *Note the word FAN in the word fanfiction. * 

Quote of the Fic: "All for one and one for all. Never give-up, never surrender!" "When in doubt, chicken out." Harold and Stinky-On the Lam

Now you get to read! Happy Late Valentine's Day!

****

Somewhere Out There

Some days are remembered for life in the mind, but others exist forever in the heart and soul. Times when you meet the one you've loved for a while, and times when you meet the one you know you are supposed to be with forever.

Of course, life will takes it's toll and you see the person leave, the person that you've learned to love, and you have doubts that you'll never see her again. The person leaves, only giving you her thoughts and feelings and her wonderful personality, or what others call, her selfness. You do not the person's true identity, and there is no way to find her and be with her again. That person had shown you so much in the time of a few hours, and you know that she was the one, and probably still is. You want to find out her name and who she is. You know that a name is only a title, but it wouldn't hurt to know.

A year passes and you haven't seen her again. You have tried to forget, but you can't help but feel that she's seen you, and you've seen her, too. The time comes that you remember most the day that she came, and you long to find her and enjoy her company again. Of course, the chances are dim. That single day was enough to last a lifetime.

But one taste of a good thing has you wanting more.

That is why A young boy and his best friend were on their school's website on February the tenth, searching for girls' names between fourth and sixth grade.

Is it good so far? Just to say, they are in the fifth grade for future reference. Until next time, can you check out Through the Compact Disc, Explanations, and Time to Switch? I've updated them and so far not many have read them. Give me your advice or encouragement. * I see a fine line between flame-throwers and constructive critics: I would like to have the latter. * 


	2. She Hates Me Puddle of Mudd

My Hair Was Down 

Well, so what if it's spring, I still want to write this and continue the tradition! I never saw the episode, well, at least for three years. I may never be as good as the others, but so what, I'm expressing my self!  Okay, um, well, PMFM isn't here anymore to do the summaries so, here I go! Arnold and Gerald search for answers on the net. Also, they think up a plan that I'll only give hints on! Sorry. Well, I do not own anything in this as of 1996, okay? Good, now that we've come to an agreement, do you think two bucks, a half broken radio, and my favorite pair of sneakers will be enough? But, but, they're really comfy shoes, and, um…

Also, HA:TM (Hey Arnold: The Movie) never happened. 

"You do know what the odds are to finding Cecile on the school web site, Arnold, don't you?"

Arnold was sitting at his desk with Gerald sitting on the couch behind him, scrolling down the entire sixth grade class. More specifically, he was looking for the girls in the sixth grade class. The person he was looking for was a little bit taller than him, so he figured he was either in his grade or in a grade higher. He wanted to find someone he'd met in the fourth grade, and now it was the fifth grade that he was in. He bit his lip and stared at the computer screen, not finding anyone who had the same colored hair or eyes as Cecile had.

He sighed as he clicked on to the Fifth Grade Class icon on the screen. "I know, Gerald, but as long as there are odds, it's possible."

Gerald lie back on the couch. "You listen to Mr. Packenham too much." He paused for a minute. "Either that, or you will become a great advice giver on the Internet one day."

They both laughed for a moment, then settled down as Arnold turned back to look at those in Mr. Packenham, Mr. Jackson, and Mrs. Kinston's classes. Sure, Gerald wanted to find his friend find his possible true love so that the two could live happily ever after and blah, blah, blah. It's just that he thought that Arnold always hung over people, and then he'd be disappointed all over again. Cecile didn't even give a real name to him, so how would anyone know what she was thinking about Arnold?

"Okay, Arnold," said Gerald. "We know that she has long, blond hair, blue eyes, is taller than you, and, well, sometimes has, what would you say, Arnold? An easy temper sometimes."

Arnold scrolled down every name and picture on the list, thinking. "We also know that she wouldn't want me to know who she is." He sighed, remembering that moment when he knew Cecile wasn't the real Cecile. It was the moment that she told him nothing about her real identity. It was the minute he thought he had found _the_ one. Sure, he was nine at the time, but he had been told before that he was wise beyond his years and, um, a bold kid. The approach of the Valentine's Day dance had brought the memory back. Now it was an obsession.

Doesn't that remind you of someone?

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Three hours ago…

Helga Pataki stared at a flyer for the school's Valentine's Day dance. Then, she looked down at the foot of her bad. Underneath the foundation of her bed was a shoebox that held only one, red, high heel shoe. Along with that shoe held memories that were sweeter than the sweetest strawberry on the plant in the garden of love. 

"Hey, that's good! I better write that down." Helga said suddenly as she rushed into her closet. She tripped on a book and fell into her clothes. She almost never wore these blue, red, and green outfits, for, well, certain reasons. (We all know what that is. Cough, I like, cough, you bow, cough, cuz it's pink, cough!) But she fell into the one outfit that she had worn exactly 360 days ago. 

The one she had worn when she was Cecile.

"Is someone just trying to tell me something? Criminy!" She walked out of the closet not writing it down. 

 She sat down on the bed and began to think. What if Arnold had totally forgotten about Valentine's Day?  What if he had completely forgotten about Cecile?

Well, we all know the answer to that.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

"Do you think it may have been Nadine?"

"Arnold, do you seriously think that? She doesn't look a thing like Cecile! Her head, eyes, skin color, and voice are totally wrong!"

They were still looking through the list of fourth graders. Arnold scrolled down to the next person. "What about Helga?"

Gerald sat up on the couch. He stared at Arnold for a minute, and then another eleven seconds. Then he fell on the ground and began to laugh hysterically. Soon after, Arnold joined in. too.

"_Gggrrrr!_"

Arnold sat up. "Did you hear something just now?"

Gerald took a deep breath and said, "No."

Up above the boarding house, kneeling on the glass of Arnold's skylight was Helga. Her worries of whether or not Arnold remembered had triggered her to check up on him. For some reason, she thought that he'd be going about his business, not doing anything unusual. Except, well, living in the boarding house. Now that she thought of it, he might have been doing that stuff anyway, even if he did remember. But there it was, shining proof that her doubts were pointless. But now, she was pulled in to what Arnold was actually doing. He had no idea that Cecile was she, and yet, she felt excited that Arnold was so desperate to find Cecile, I mean, her. She smiled. "Yes!"

"There it was again," said Arnold. Helga covered her mouth and went back off of the boarding house.

Gerald stood up and took his seat on the couch. He looked at the picture next to her name. He lifted an eyebrow. "You know, Arnold, I must be going _crazy_, but I think there is a resemblance. The short temper fits. So do the hair, eyes, and the whole pink thing."

Arnold took a good, hard look at the picture. He shook his head. "No, it can't be. First of all, she hates me, and plus, her hair isn't the least bit wavy!"

Gerald thought a moment a nodded his head. "Yeah, you're right. How could it possibly be Helga?"

As they went through the rest of the class, they found absolutely no one to fit the description. There was this one girl who almost fit, but she was an exchange student from Germany.

After going through the Fourth Grade Class, Gerald jumped in. "Arnold, do you really think a second grader would have been taller than you last year? Or, for the love of all, be able to get you to fall in love with her?"

Arnold leaned back in his chair. What was he supposed to do? He knew that she must know him, most likely from school, but he couldn't find anyone. Whoever it was, she must have had a really good disguise. 

He wanted to see her so badly. When the dance started to become a big thing in school, he had forgotten all about Lila. Well, not really, but he didn't like-like her anymore. Didn't Cecile want to see him?

Arnold sat up suddenly and smiled. "Gerald, I think your ways of plans are rubbing off on me."

He turned around and began to tell Gerald what he was thinking. Then, they closed the Internet and got on to Minisoft Works. It would be a while before they'd be done. But they had plenty of time. Kenko's didn't close until 11:30 at night.

Well, what are these two up to? If you don't know, I promise the next updating period will be shorter, okay?

Read:

Explanations: It was the Day After FTI was defeated, and Arnold wanted some answers. Boy, did he get them! Nine chappies, I think.

Through the Compact Disc: When Arnold's child gets a CD for Christmas, he's in for a big surprise. The artist is Helga! How does the family handle it? Four chappies.

Time to Switch: When the angels create a new subject for a switch. Switch two people who have no clue about each other, and make the two friends. Who are they? Helga and Lila! Two chappies. 

Well, until I decide to update a story (which will be soon!) I'll see you later. Oh, and Phebga wants me to say that she's making a story, too, called Where's the Studio. It'll be made soon.

So, I guess that's it! Until next time, I already said this: see ya! 


	3. I'm Addicted Simple Plan

Valentine's Day II: My Hair Is Down

Arnold Fan, you better review this one...I like e-mail, I don't know why. Anyone else reading...well, the same goes for you, too! I know it's been forever, but this story was on my dad's computer, and I've been at my mother's. So, here it is. Enjoy it!

Okay, um, I guess I'm finished. And as a note, I haven't seen the episode for this in, um, how should I say this? Three years. All I saw was the last two minutes of it! Crap!

Summary: The next day, everyone sees things on the Student Billboard, and somebody devises a plan.

Disclaimer: It is past my dinner time and I haven't eaten, the radio has nothing good on, and nobody has yet reviewed chappie two yet! Oh, and, um, Phebga's mad about no one reading her second fic. So, we are in no mood to say that we don't own Hey Arnold! *Oh, why did you have to say it? NO!* Oh, and, um, I changed Kinko's to Kenko's, al right?

****

I'M ADDICTED 

Arnold and Gerald rushed into the school before most of the kids were there. They huffed and puffed their way to the Student Billboard . It was a big board that the kids posted notes, reminders, and flyers for local community activities on. In the middle, top, bottom, left, and right of it were bright pink and red flyers for the Valentine's Day dance. Now it was only four days until the morning before the dance. Seeing them made Arnold frown. Oh, how he wanted to find her. It ate him up inside.

Gerald saw the unusual look on the boy's face and gave him a little playful, but attention getting, push, and pointed at the stack of papers in his hand. He smiled. Arnold soon followed suit in Gerald's expression and pulled out his stack from his backpack. They began to cover other old newsletters and advertisements with this new flyer, and then continued. They crept into the office and slipped about twenty copies in each teacher's (who taught the fourth and above grades) pass-out-to-the-students' boxes, and taped them on the girls' bathroom doors, classroom doors, and over the lockers. Sure, it cost them a lot of money at Kenko's, but if it worked, Arnold would be happier than he'd ever be with Lila. Or Ruth, or Summer, or Maria, or...

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Helga walked in, playing the song "I'm With You" and "When I'm Gone" over and over in her head. She finally got an alarm clock, and it had a radio. Now the song was stuck in her head. She had been looking down at the floor as she walked in, thinking about the upcoming Valentine's Day dance for certain reasons. The noise that came from all over the school made her peek up, and then look, and then stare. 

There were big pink posters everywhere, and they all had blue and red print. All over the lockers, doors, and bathroom doors, you could find them. Mostly it was girls that surrounded them, but a boy or two drifted over to see what all of the commotion was about. Well, if everyone else was looking at them and not moving when they were done, she guessed it had to be important.

She wandered over to one that was near he locker and read it:

****

Are You Who I'm Looking For?

I'm looking for a girl I had a lot of fun with about a year ago.

I'm looking for a girl who had dinner with me at Chez Paris.

I'm looking for a girl who I thought I'd known for a long time, but really didn't.

I'm looking for a girl with long, wavy, blond hair and blue eyes.

I'm looking for a girl between fourth and sixth grade.

I'm looking for a girl who didn't give me her name, and whom I'd like to see again.

I'm looking for a girl I can't get out of my head right now.

Are you who I'm looking for? If you are, please go to the Sunset Arms on Valentine's Day, and I'll take you to the school dance.

Helga's eyes widened. There was only one person the person who wrote this could be looking for: her. Or at least Cecile.

The person who wrote this had to be Arnold. Everyone who knew him knew it. Well, everyone also knew Gerald had to be involved with it, too. No one knew how they knew, but they did. 

Helga couldn't believe it. Arnold couldn't get her out of her head! So what if it were Cecile, it was still her! And he wanted to take her to the school dance! Helga got a bit of a goofy smile on her face and stumbled a little, but she caught herself soon.

She walked into the cafeteria, the new hang out place in the mornings, and started looking for Phoebe. When she finally saw her, she raced over and called her name. She turned around and greeted Helga. "I'm about to go sit down, Helga," she said. "Come accompany me." 

She joined Phoebe and the group she was with, which was Rhonda, Lila, Nadine, and the exchange student from Germany, Jenna. When she approached them, Rhonda immediately asked her, "So, have you seen them?" Apparently, she didn't need to specify.

Helga nodded. "Yeah, so what? Football Head's looking for this dumb girl who he liked last year, and he has to tell the whole world about it!"

Rhonda rolled her eyes very noticeably. She had become a lot more 'cool' and 'fashionable' over the weeks, but people who didn't like her just called it 'preppy snob development'. "Whatever." She turned back to the whole group and said, "So, does anybody have any idea who it is?" When everyone shook their head, including Helga and Phoebe, she sighed irritably. "I have three or four ideas." She pulled out a piece of paper and scrolled down it. "Jenna, was it you?"

In a slight German accent, Jenna replied, "Rhonda, I vasn't even heer laust year. How do you expet me to have been this gurl?"

Rhonda sighed once again and crossed off the name. "Lila, you?"

Lila smiled her ever-so sweet smile. "Rhonda, my answer would have to be like Jenna's: I wasn't here. Also, I don't like-like Arnold, I just like him."

Rhonda lifted her eyebrows and crossed off Lila's name. She glanced at the next one and looked across from her. "Nadine?"

Nadine just shook her head and said, "Rhonda, you were with me, Sid, and Iggy at that fest at the park that night, remember?"

Rhonda scratched out that one and looked to the next. She smirked and Helga knew what the name was. She tried to act clueless on it, though.

"Helga, what about you? You fit the description, except I've never seen your hair down all the way before."

Helga looked at her with a disgusted face. "Me? you think that I'd actually spend Valentine's Day with ARNOLD? Tsk, please!" She bent back slightly and crossed her arms.

At first, Rhonda didn't take her gaze off of her. Helga raised her eyebrow at her after a moment and Rhonda turned back to the paper. She folded it up and placed it in her purse. "I guess I'm out, huh?" She leaned over and sighed. "You know, it is pretty cool what Arnold and Gerald are doing. It's just so romantic movie, isn't it? A girl that a guy falls in love with, but it turns out she's not who she thinks she is, and when she leaves, he doesn't know her name, so he begins a search. Wouldn't it make a great movie?"

The girls began to respond, but then Arnold and Gerald walked into the room, yelling out, "Are you Cecile? Are you Cecile?"

Everyone turned toward the two best friends who were passing out flyers to all of the girls who fit the age description. When they got to Helga's table and Helga got one, Gerald whispered, "Arnold?"

He shrugged. "If she isn't her, maybe she knows her." 

Gerald tried to cover up his reluctance to give Phoebe one, and it worked, relatively. They left them and moved to a table of sixth graders.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

It was recess, and Arnold was walking around with his hands in his pockets. When Gerald approached him, he asked, "Do you think this will even work, Gerald?"

Gerald put his hand on Arnold's shoulder. "Come on, man, of course it will! The person has to be in our school, and you'll find out on Valentine's Day, okay?"

Arnold nodded and sighed. "Ever since the dance came up, I haven't thought of much else except for Cecile." He pitifully looked up at Gerald. "It's like I'm addicted to her, like I can't get her out of my mind, and I'm yearning to see her again. I've never felt this way about anyone else before, and it scares me, but still, I kind of like it. I really, really like her, and one year without her has made me mad! Sure, I've had Lila and Summer and all that to take my mind off of it, but now I realize that those feelings were misguided. Wait, I realized that with Summer a long time ago. I really am obsessed, aren't I?"

Gerald leaned against the wall and was staring at Arnold. That was a very long description. "All you had to say was 'I really like Cecile and that's all I think of'. But since you talked about it for so long, I really guess you are, man."

Arnold hit his large head against the brick wall of the school and moaned. "I've been like this with seven girls now. Ruth, Connie, Lila, Summer, Ms. Felter, Hilda...um, at Arnie's house...and now Cecile." He looked down at his feet. "Help me, man." He paused and looked up at Gerald with a smirk on his face. "But not like you did with Ms. Felter, okay?"

Gerald playfully punched his friend and said, "Whatever, man. You seemed okay last time, Arnold. Just keep it cool, and you'll be fine."

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Helga jumped back around the corner when he saw Arnold and Gerald talking. She grabbed her book so tight she thought the binding would bend when she heard Arnold say that he was addicted to Helga. She thought that she would scream, run around the corner, and yell out "I'm Cecile, you love me, I'm Cecile!" He also admitted that he never had liked Lila or any of those other dorks, which made her really ecstatic. 

She looked through the book she held and pulled out a student directory. She had stuffed it in there when they had given it to her because the only person she ever called, Phoebe's, phone number was memorized. But now she needed it once again. 

She had never called this person on the telephone.

She turned around and slightly crept back toward the playground area.

WHEE! 


	4. Why Not? XXXXX

Valentine's Day II: My Hair Was Down

Well, here we are once again...didn't you miss me? Well, its chappie four, now. Review time!

A-Leng-Well, I guess they are out of character...I'm trying to make Arnold goofier and more desperate than he's been over a girl, though, okay? The Gerald thing...I'll work on it, okay?

Arnold fan- Hey, I know you did it by e-mail, but I like real reviews, too. Thankies for the compliments! :D

Itzjustme (Danielle)-Thankies for the compliments, too. ~Big Ego Boost! ~ Wow, people who read this really like it, eh? Wow! Cool!

Now, after so long with you lawyers surfing around, trying to make easy cash off of little kids who are fans of big shows, you really ought to know that nobody here owns/created/is part of the crew of HA! Well?

"Roses are red. Dirt is brown. Please be my valentine, or else I'll frown. PS-I've never written poetry before"-Ben-Walk Two Moons (Love that book!)

Why Not 

Bring! 

Every child between the ages of 6 and 12 were let out of the so-called prison for a two day parole, otherwise known as, to most kids, "Weekend! Friday is over! Celebrate!" (Isn't that what it seems like?)

Also, the main gossip on the bus home was obviously, what was written all over the school. Two certain people were happy with the outcome of it. A certain person was bound to have seen the certain things, and she was hopefully call a certain person's phone number and make a date for a certain dance.

"Gerald, do you really think that this will work?"

Gerald looked over to his football headed, kilt wearing, slightly desperate, yet patient, best friend, otherwise known as Arnold. Gerald sat back and had an urge to roll his eyes. Well, it was a small urge. "Look, man, you've asked me that every two minutes so far today. Every kid who knows how to read saw those posters, okay? On Tuesday, Cecile will be going to the V-Day dance with you, okay?"

Arnold nodded quickly and looked out of the window. Sure, he'd never been this gaga over any girl...not even Summer, and she kissed him on the head. He wasn't even this desperate when he first met her. He guessed that it was just the suspense and mystery of which the person must be that got him into thinking hard. So, what, he could be dense to some things, but he knew his heart. He couldn't help thinking that he had met this person before, but then he kept thinking, "No, she's so much different from any girl that I know of".

While you are thinking, "are you sure?"

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Helga practically ran home so that she could have enough time. She wanted this done as soon as he got there. First, though, she had to find his phone number. After that was done, she opened her closet, pushed past the camouflage of the outfits she would never wear, and opened the small area where she kept all of her important things. (Namely, they were anything related to Arnold.) 

She pushed away a year's worth of books, pictures, mini shrines, and old math books (don't ask) to finally reach the one thing he would need to prove who she had pretended to be.

!@#$%^&*()_)+{}:"?

"Hi, Grandpa, I'll be down for dinner when I'm done with my homework!" Arnold rushed up the stairs, stopping briefly to greet his grandfather, and then rushed up to his bedroom in the new attic. The old attic was next to his. A little door in the wall of his room would lead you to it. Anyway...

He plopped his notebook on his desk and opened it to the page where he had started his essay on the most important memories he had. He could think of a few, but he decided not to use the one that had unfolded recently. As he was about to begin, he heard the phone ring.

Instinctively, he dived for the telephone, and automatically blurted, "Cecile?"

He heard a sigh on the other side of the phone. "Ugh, Arnold would you forget about that long enough to tell me what that essay was supposed to be about? Boy, howdy, you are obsessed with this, aren't you?"

Arnold leaned back in his chair, slightly disappointed, but not too much. "Sure, Sid. We were supposed to write about our fondest memory."

"Ah, okay, gotcha. Thanks a lot, Arnold."

"No problem."

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Helga flopped onto her bed and hung up. Busy. "Criminy! Now I don't know if I can do it!"

All of a sudden, that busy signal brought her to the reality of what she was about to do. She was about to set a date with Arnold! What was she supposed to do? How could she tell him? Last year she just showed up. It would be so hard to keep a straight voice while speaking to him now! Besides, after all of this time, Arnold couldn't even figure out whom it truly was that went to Chez Paris with him! Why should she go as Cecile again?

Then, a little voice in the back of her head said, "Why not?"

Helga rolled her eyes at her own morality. She wasn't ready to tell Arnold that they could go on a date (in public) to the dance.

Oh, come on, you love the boy! Why can't you tell him? He doesn't even know that its you yet! Plus, it could be a perfect opportunity. 

Fine! I'll call! Man!

She clutched the phone took a deep breath, and in her French accent, she said, "Oh, Arnold, I do hope this works."

!@#$%^&()_+{}:"?

As soon as he sat down the phone, he heard it ring. This time, he was careful not to blurt out Cecile. Instead, he yelped, "Hello?"

He heard a deep, almost trembling voice. Then he heard the person at the other end say, "Arnold? I saw your fly-"

He jumped up and said very happily, "Cecile?"

Helga smiled. He bought it. "Yes, Arnold, it's me." She pulled on the sleeve of her shirt. "So, how have you, uh, been this past year?"

Arnold hadn't thought that it would be this difficult talking to her again. "Uh, well, I've been fine! A lot of stuff has been going on, too. Maybe, well..."

"Maybe, um, we could talk about stuff during, uh..."

"At, maybe, the Valentine's Dance on Tuesday?"

Helga grasped the phone cord and thought that she might even loose the connection if she didn't hang up soon. "Yeah, uh, heh, heh, sure. So, when should I be at your house?"

Arnold lifted one of his eyebrows. "I thought I could go over to your house, Cecile."

Helga's eyes suddenly grew in fear of that. "NO! I mean, Arnold, no, okay, I don't want you to know until I tell you, okay?"

"Why can't you just tell me now?"

"Because you won't believe me! Listen, Arnold, I-I cannot tell you until the fourteenth, all right?"

Arnold really wanted to know now, but he could wit. "Sure, Cecile. Uh, I guess that I'll see you on Tuesday, then, okay?"

Helga twisted the cord slowly around her finger. "Yeah, um, sure, Arnold. Au revoiar (A/N: I need spelling, okay?), Arnold."

Two people hung up, stayed calm for two seconds, and then smiled. One jumped up and down, the other just gave a great sigh and plopped down on his bed.

He had the whole weekend to write an essay about reading his parent's journal. He had right now to wallow in his own joy.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I did it! I made a date with Arnold! I just have to find a dress like Cecile's in a bigger size, and I'm in free!"

Helga was tangled up in the clothing in her closet. Her dancing around was not helping her get to the other side of the closet.

"Oh, once again to meet my love in the romance of Valentine's Day night! Best of all, he still has no idea who I am! Wait until I show him, then he will have to like Cecile even more! I mean, so what he still doesn't know me that much, he still knows that I'm not always a jerk. Oh, I can't wait!"

After a moment of sitting at her shrine and inspecting her old Cecile dress, she decided that for the first time in her life, she had to go the mall and actually but dressy clothing.

She still had her doubts, but she was to excited to acknowledge them just yet. She'd work on them later.

After all, instead of asking why, that little voice in her head kept telling her "why not?"

So...is this still good? I hope so. I need more reviews, people! I know its a little early...but I like encouragement! So, tell me your thoughts on it, any of them, criticizing is welcome, but I hate flames, okay? So, check out my others, while you're at it. Anyway, see you!

BrianaLFBH


	5. Here Without You 3 Doors Down

Valentine's Day II: My Hair is Down

Hello, all! Been a while, eh? Check out either the TtCD or Explanation's Author's Note for that. While your there, check it out if you haven't. But this is supposed to be about this one, shouldn't it? Everyone, I may need either a list by email (not review) or a link to a place where I can get basic French vocabulary. I know how to say it, but spelling it is different. I know au revoiar now, but I need more. Much appreciated. I hope you all like the newest installment!

Yes, I am back! My mom's computer was finally fixed, so be ready for a flood from Phebga and I!

Midnight Oasis: Yeah, I think I've taken too much time, huh? Don't worry... as I said, check out the Author's Notes.

Draco's One and Only: Yes, you will. Very, very soon. bout a few paragraphs away soon.

Arnold Fan: Long enough for you? I hope you like this one, too!

Army Angel Girl: Thank you for your enthusiasm! Actually, there are a ton of stories about Valentine's Day! It's just that not many have written them recently. Go back a couple of pages on the site and see for yourself!

Lone Wolf Two: CLEAR! ~Beep!~ Good news... it's not dead! 

Texaco Tex: Thanks again, and yeah, I've gotten a few comments on that. Thanks!

Lynx 7: Mhm..... Food......

Helgagurl46: Um.... okay..... Thanks for liking my other fics, too! 

Demile: CLEAR! ~sizzle~ Sorry, it looked like you were hyperventilating there! Anyway, here you go!

Laura: Thanks! I need those words!

Kim: ~wide eyes~. Um.... okay, and thanks! 

Wow, so many reviews! So many ego implants.... whoa..... POP!

Disclaimer: Don't own nothing if anything is copyrighted. If it isn't, I claim ownership! Too late if you thought it up but haven't gotten anywhere, I've got the papers. Okay, not really1 I'm just pulling your leg! Okay, I'm done. Bye.

Here Without You

Arnold jerked awake and his eyes darted straight to his clock. Soft jazz was playing from it. He really didn't understand why he chose this radio station, as it only made him calm and tired feeling. Then thoughts of last night crept over him. He sighed in realization and happiness. He had thought that it would most definitely take at least, what, two days for her to call, but it all happened in that single day.

How relieving for him!

While he stepped forth from his bed and walked to his closet, someone a few streets down was still turning in her bed. 

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Helga's blanket's were tied and knotted around her, as her head turned and her lips mouthed words. Her eyes were clenched tight and perspiration dotted her forehead as she wandered in her nightmare.

A light breeze from the air system blew the window drapes next to her bed, letting light flood into her eyelids. She sat up with a start. At first she gasped at the new scenery, then took in the fact that it had all been a dream. She exhaled, and leaned back into her pillow. Arnold woke up about a half hour before she did, so she had time to contemplate her dream.

***

Her arm was twined in with his as they walked in the cold breeze of February down a path in the park. It was late twilight, and their coats were kept tightly around them. Arnold looked into her eyes, that soft, caring, loving look in them.

"I had a wonderful evening," he said to her.

She smiled. "As did I," she replied in a French accent.

Arnold smiled, too, and his eyes drifted around in nervousness. He finally looked back at her. Neither had noticed, but they had stopped and he looked at her with his arms crossed in anticipation. 

"Now," he asked slowly, "will you tell me your real name?"

It was a perfect scene. She knew that know was the best time possible. She nodded her head and pulled her hair back. She untied her bow and used it to tie the blond hair into two pigtails.

When she looked back, instead of seeing a look of surprise, which she expected, she saw a look of horror and disbelief. His eyes widened and he stumbled back from her. "I... I... I can't..." he stuttered. 

She looked at him, both concerned and fearful. "What is it?"

He pointed at her. "I can't believe... it's you! You of all people!"

She nodded, not knowing how it would go.

He glared at her accusingly and said, "Was this just some dirty prank? You can't be the real Cecile... you impersonated her to make fun of me! How could you?"

She gasped. Her heart had been open before she did this, so the words affected her more than it would've. She, too, stumbled back in fear. "No," she whispered. "No, it really is-"

"Here I am, fussing over everything, indulging in totally in-depth conversations with you, and you're just Helga Pataki! Just her. I can't believe I fell for this trick."

This is where she began to get angry. "This shows how much you know, Arnold!" she cried out. "It's been me this entire time. Everything else I've ever done is the prank, Arnold!" She started ranting now. "You think today was a trick, or last year? Every other day I've ever spoken to you in has been the trick, Arnold. This was real. And yet you think it otherwise!? _I _don't believe _you_."

Arnold just kept looking at her, a look of hatred. "I _kissed_ you!" With that he turned and ran, literally ran, away.

"No, stop!" yelled Helga, reaching out and chasing him. Before she knew it, he had disappeared in the mist.

Helga started breathing hard as her eyes started to well up. "No," she whispered. "I'm sorry..." she fell to her knees and started sobbing. "I'm sorry!" she yelled.

Then she woke up.

***

"Oh, my God," moaned Helga. She sat in a tight ball and started rubbing her temples. "It can't end up like that... it can't." She looked up to see the clock to see that it was ten minutes earlier than she usually woke up. She was late. She shook off the remnant memories of the nightmare and tried to be calm as she pushed the covers back and walked out of her room to the bathroom.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

"So... do you think she'll talk to you today?"

Arnold lifted an eyebrow at Gerald. "What do you think?" he asked.

Gerald grinned sheepishly. "I'm thinking," he said, "no?"

"Yeah," Arnold said. "Most likely not." He sighed and leaned back against the brick school wall. "I wish she would, though. Secretly or something. I just didn't get to do much on the phone except plan a date."

"But you still have the date, man," assured Gerald. Then, in a sappy, mocking voice, he said, "You two lovebirds can talk _all you want_ there."

Arnold narrowed his eyes and elbowed him in the arm. "Shut up, man," he said.

In all seriousness, though, he really did hope the two of them could talk more. Nothing totally big happened last year... they were only nine. But now, they were ten, and an entire year of maturity had spurred in Arnold. He hoped the same had gone for Cecile, and the two of them could converse about more... and have a better date than last time. The running between two restaurants hadn't done him wonderfully. According to Gerald and Stinky, he was a 'romantic', so he at least partially had a better chance this year.

"Arnold? Arnold? Hey, Arnold!"

"Huh?" He jerked out of his thoughts and looked up at Gerald. "Oh, what?"

Smiling, Gerald shook his head and laughed. "You really, _really _are looking forward to this, hmm?"

Arnold turned his gaze out to the main part of the recess area dreamily. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I am. I really can't wait. I feel sort of giddy. In only a few days..." He let it hang there.

Gerald chuckled again and hit him on the back. "Arnold, you're a-"

"I know, I know-" said Arnold. "I'm a bold kid."

"Well... yeah, there's that," said Gerald, shrugging. "But I was going to say that you are a good kid. Sure, you're girl crazy, and you're last date with her wasn't a bowl of cherries, but-"

"Is this supposed to be helpful, Gerald?" Arnold looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Let me finish, man! Dang, you've got a thing for interrupting a brother, hmm?"

Arnold stared expectantly at his friend. Gerald returned it with a sarcastic glance.

"I was _about _to say that you're a good kid, and Cecile seems like a really nice chick. Just take it nice and cool, and don't set up a date for another girl this time, all right?"

Laughing, Arnold closed his eyes and remembered again the disaster of last year. "Whatever you say, Gerald," he replied. "Whatever you say..." Then, unexpectedly, he jumped into a frenzy.

"Oh, man, what am I going to do? It's going to be so awkward because of last year! What am I going to wear? Where am I gonna get the money for dinner? What am I supposed to wear? What am I going to say to her? Oh, man, Gerald, you've got to help me! Can you go to the restaurant and watch over like last time?"

Gerald just leaned back and rolled his eyes. _Those raging hormones, _he thought. _Ten years old... jeez..._ "Arnold, like I said," he answered. "Just play it cool and it'll all blow over nicely from there, okay?"

Arnold nodded and looked up at his friend. "So," he asked, "are you gonna go watch over for me?"

The look on Gerald's face wasn't assuring for Arnold. He bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty.

"Gerald," he said monotone. "Gerald? What is it? Why are you making that face?"

Grinning uncomfortably, Gerald answered, "Uh... Arnold, my man? You're my best friend, right?"

Arnold lifted an eyebrow. "Um... yes," he replied slowly.

"Then you'd understand," continued Gerald, also slowly, "that I, too, also had plans on Valentine's Day that... um... didn't have anything to do with, you know... you?"

At first, Arnold was confused, but after a moment he smirked mischievously. "What are you doing, Gerald?"

Gerald giggled nervously. "I'm going to the dance that night," he said.

Already having a pretty good idea about the answer, Arnold asked, "With who?"

"It ought to be obvious, man," said Gerald. "Phoebe."

Arnold nodded his understanding. It didn't ease his anxiety of Valentine's Day, but he approved the fact that his friend had previously thought up plans. He shook himself back into the original conversation. "Gerald, what am I going to do for money?" he asked desperately. "I had it covered last year, but this year it's different! you don't happen to have fifty bucks to spare, do you?"

Gerald crossed his arms and stared at him. "My turn. What do _you _think?"

Arnold sighed and hit the back of his oblong head on the wall. "I'm doomed. I was so excited, but where am I going to get that money. Maybe a fund raiser?"

"Ha!" laughed Gerald. "Sorry, Arnold, but who's going to donate money for a date?"

"Well," thought Arnold, "maybe I could sell something..."

"Arnold, are you insane?" cried Gerald. "It's not that big of a deal! Why don't you make reservations somewhere like McDonald's?"

Silence.

"Or... not," said Gerald.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Once again, the two boys were being listened to without their knowledge. Helga was in the same spot she had been in yesterday, eavesdropping. 

Last night had scared her, and made her more alert and prepared for anything. This, however, was hurting her. One, she didn't like seeing Arnold panic over something like money (even though it was for her...). Two, she didn't want to seriously talk to Arnold in a fast food restaurant! What she was planning on doing was a stretch... she had to do it, though. Maybe it would make the revealing a little bit easier on him.

She took a deep breath and stepped out from her hiding place. "So Football Head's got girl troubles again," she said. The two boys turned to see her. 

Gerald glared at her. "How long have you been here?"

Helga hacked a laugh. Placing her hands on her hips, she said, "Enough to know that Football Head either has to get some cash or gain some calories. Personally, I think it's a shame for a girl to have to put up with that on a reunion date."

__

Especially me, she thought. _Well, I guess I'm paying for half of my date, technically..._

Arnold frowned. "I think so too," he said, "but where am I supposed to get the money for it?"

"Well..." Helga said slowly. "It may be easier than you think."

"Really?" asked Gerald, suspicious of the answer. "How so?"

Helga rolled her eyes. _He thinks I'm about to blow it in their faces. Well, I'll prove him wrong. _"Down, Gerald. I'm here to help." It was hard for her to keep her cool posture while she did this. "What if I do what I did in the fall of fourth grade, huh? Lend you the money to make your perfect dreams come true?" 

Arnold lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Your going to give me the money?" he asked in disbelief.

"Fifty bucks up front," she said as seriously as she could. She was trying to be the bully and yet friendly at the same time, and the whole thing was really hard for her to do. "But the float thing was a deal. I got something in return." She crossed her arms. "What's in it for me?"

Gerald shifted gaze from Arnold to Helga and back. He was wondering and boiling at the same time. "Don't answer her, Ar--"

"What do you want?" asked Arnold. 

Helga smirked and pretended to think. As soon as he asked, though, she knew what she wanted. "I don't know..." she said.

"How about your money back, with interest?"

"Nah," she answered. "I don't need it. I think that I know what I want, though." She smiled. _This works out perfectly for me. _"The day after Valentine's Day, bring her to the Gerald Field," she said. "I want you to kiss her."

"What?" asked Arnold and Gerald simultaneously.

"Kiss her," she said simply. "Anywhere. The lips, her cheek, her nose, her hand. Any one of those will do. It's not that big of a deal since apparently you already like her," she explained. "I just want to know who she is. It's a Saturday so we couldn't know at school. Also, neither of you are to speak of this after our hands meet." She held out her hand, hopefully. A serious dealer on the outside and a melting girl on the inside. 

Gerald looked at the hand with a stone face. "Arnold," he pleaded. "Don't shake her--"

"Deal." Arnold took Helga's hand in his and shook it firmly. Not letting go, he said, "One question. Do you have the fifty with you now?"

"Luckily enough," she said, also not letting go, "I do." She reached into her dress's pocket and took out two twenties and a five. She placed them in Arnold's other hand and let go of the shake.

Gerald rolled his eyes and glared at Arnold. "Why didn't you--?"

"Watch it, Gerald," Helga said, almost evil sounding. "Don't you remember?"

__

You can't say a single thing about this, Gerald. You can't ask me anything, speak of this to anyone, not even Arnold, or fume about it. Watch it, Tall Hair Boy. Helga watched as Gerald stomped away, pride filling her heart. She did it. the plan was perfect. Even how everyone else would find out was perfect.

Arnold started to follow him, but turned back and smiled at Helga. "Thanks, Helga," he said enthusiastically. "Thanks a lot!" 

She only smiled. She was waiting for when he would get happy about it. He left the shadow of the corner and ran off, excited, back to where his other friends were.

Once out of sight, Helga grinned and started to jump up and down. "Oh, this is brilliant, Helga! How on earth did you think of a sly move like that? The plan is even better than it was before! He has to kiss you in front of everyone now! Oh, my love, I can't wait until you finally see how it is I you just promised to kiss! That it was Cecile herself who paid for your date! How it was always me!" She pulled out her locket from her dress and hugged it. She swooned and leaned on the corner.

Then she heard the familiar sound.

The sound of breathing.

__

Completing the scene, she thought, annoyed but still giddy. She turned around to see Who she thought would be there. "Brainy, i don't feel like hitting you right now," she said happily. "I owe you one." She stuffed her locket back in it's place and ran toward Phoebe.

Brainy stood there where the three others had previously spoken. He started to shiver, then shake violently. Finally, he forced a fist and lifted it quickly to his face.

"Ugh..." He slumped to the concrete, where a teacher found him five minutes later.

So, I had no idea when I started this that the deal would take place. Inspirational moments I guess. So, give me a review and tell me what you think! I hope you stay tuned for more chapters! It's gonna get really good!

BrianaLFBH


	6. Material Girls Madonna

Valentine's Day II:  
My Hair Is Down  
  
How is everybody, now, good, okay. Glad you all liked my last installment. Oh, and Brainy hits himself sometimes because… well, why not just check out a fine story I like about Brainy entitled "The Brainy Saga". It's one of my favorites and if Nftnat is out there somewhere, I know good things take time, but PLEASE MAKE A NEW CHAPTER! Okay, now that a word from our sponsor is over with, let's get it on. Thanks Eve. Here's your idea, as a little introduction to the, um, bigger part. By the way, Bunny Girl went away. I'm about to cry, I am, I am. Okay, not really, but her stories are really cool and she hasn't finished them. I will never know how Helga and Arnold switch back. And I was in that story, too. Cryness. Anyway, now that I'm done weeping (not really), let's go!

I don't claim ownership to anything that isn't legally mine.  
  
  
  
"Please, Helga, please, please, please go to the mall with me, I'd really appreciate it, just do this one thing for me, I really need your help, please-please-please-please…" 

"Okay! Calm your jets Phoebe; I'll go to the mall with you! Man, don't worry. I have to go to the mall anyway." Helga rolled her eyes and gripped her backpack as she made her way through the hallway. 

Phoebe grinned gleefully, but then blinked and tried to compose herself. "Thank you, Helga," she said, less hysterically. "Your assistance is much esteemed."

Helga sighed and shook her head. "Come on, Phoebe, I know that you want to buy an outfit for the dance that your going to with Gerald."

She gasped and placed a hand over her mouth. "How did you find out?" she whispered.

"It's no secret that you two have had a thing since, like, forever!" explained Helga. "However, how it could be Gerald is still a mystery to me. He thinks he's just so cool and junk." She pushed the doors open and stepped out into the sunlight, Phoebe following.

"Well," said Phoebe, nervously, "he's not that conceited. He seems rather loyal, outgoing, smart, funny, and he is... kind of... cool." She looked at Helga, who lifted an eyebrow. "Besides, it's not like it's a date or anything. We just decided to go. anyway, I already asked my parents if I could go."

"With Gerald?" asked Helga. It was really weird that her best friend liked her crush's best friend. _It makes a square, really. _She didn't have a problem with it, it's just that she really didn't like Gerald at all.

"No, to the mall. Do you need to call your parents? We could use the office phone." She pointed behind her to the school's entrance doors. 

"No, let's just go," said Helga.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

"What do you think about this, Helga?" asked Phoebe, holding up a shocking red, glittery, small gown in Dullard's. "I think it's my size, and it would go with that red necklace we bought in Shaire's."

Helga bent over her side of the aisle to look at the dress. She shrugged and said, "Uh, it's okay."

Phoebe sighed, and took it off the hangar. "Come on, Helga," she complained. "I asked you to come to help me shop, okay?"

"Okay," moaned Helga. She took another look at it and said, "I think it'll go good with the necklace and that red hairpiece that you've got." She really didn't want to be at the mall with Phoebe, since she was shopping for her Cecile act, but it was as good of a time as any. "Uh, Pheebs? What would you think as a good outfit for me to wear? I might decide to go to that dance." She picked at a maroon gown that was too big on her. "Alone, of course."

Phoebe carried the red gown to the dressing rooms and walked inside. "Certainly, just let me sample this on."

Phoebe walked out and did a little twirl for Helga. It raised up a little at the ends as she did so, and the breast of the dress shimmered. (I know that they're fifth graders! That's why I said 'of the dress'.) Helga smiled in approval. "I like it. Buy it and help me find a cheap one. I only have forty dollars.

Twenty minutes later, Helga was in front of a wall-length mirror, slumping in her light red, shoulder sleeved dress with a dark pink collar. Phoebe was trying to find an accessory that would match.

"When the heck did you become such a fashion expert?" Helga asked impatiently.

Phoebe shrugged. "That slumber party around a year ago--remember the one at Rhonda home?--it prodded the feminine side of me, I suppose," she explained.

Helga looked herself over, placing herself in this dress at Chew Paris. She smiled and nodded. "I like it.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

The next day, in the cafeteria, Rhonda, Nadine, Lila, Jenna, Phoebe, and Helga were walking to their seats, talking once again about the mysterious Cecile. "I still can't believe that Arnold isn't telling us who it is!" exclaimed Rhonda. She reached the table, set down her tray, but stayed standing (as did everyone else).

"It is possible that he doesn't even know, Rhonda."

"Lila, he _has_ to."

"But it wouldn't be romantic if he knew before Valentine's Day," explained Nadine, smiling at the thought of it.

"Yes," said Jenna. "It unt vould. Valentine's Day is not as big of a deal in Germany as it is here in Hillvood."

Rhonda rolled her eyes and huffed. "Whatever," she said, "but that means that whoever this mystery girl is, she is definitely at our school. How else could she have known that Arnold was looking for her so desperately and pathetically?"

Closing and Opening her eyes, Helga tried to stay calm without putting up an obvious effort. "You know, Rhonda," she mocked, "I read this book once, and it said that those who smite in other's lives would be slashed by their own. It's talking about those who gossip too much." She crossed her arms and smirked at the princess.

"He practically asked for it by announcing to the entire campus that he liked-liked this girl," Rhonda protested. She lowered the pad of paper she almost always carried now and walked up to Helga. She got directly in her face, smiled, and said sneakily, "I think that you know something about this whole thing, don't you? Why else do you keep covering for him?"

Helga's heart was beating faster and faster, but she kept a straight face. She narrowed her eyes threateningly. "I'm not covering for him," she said in a loud whisper. "I'm trying to get you to shut your trap. And get. Out. Of. My. Face."

Rhonda lifted her chin and stared down at Helga. She seemed satisfied for the time being and stepped back from Helga.

The tension lasted for a few seconds until Phoebe sat and said, "So what are you all doing at the dance? Are you being accompanied by anyone?"

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Arnold was surrounded by Gerald, Sid, Stinky, and Eugene on the jungle gym during recess. He hung his head and lifted it again, clearly wanting out of the center.

"Come on, Arnold, are you sure she didn't tell you her name?" asked Sid eagerly.

"No, Sid," he replied almost robotically. "I think I would remember, no offense."

"I think Arnold gosh darn lucky to have a real date to on the holiday except just a dance partner," said Stinky. "Even though Miss Lila so kindly agreed to go with me."

Arnold let go of the railing and jumped from the jungle gym. He looked up at Stinky and said, "You know, that doesn't even bother me anymore, Stinky. It's weird, but two weeks ago I would still probably be following Lila around, but now I couldn't care less about whether or not she likes me. It's kind of like what happened with Ruth."

Gerald looked down and smiled. "Good for you, Arnold," he said. "Just never, ever speak the name Ruth again, okay? She was a worse case than Lila."

Arnold smiled and let out a small laugh. "I guess you're right, Gerald." Gerald jumped from his perch and held out his thumb. Arnold returned the gesture and they performed their secret "handshake".

After their shake, Gerald whispered so that only Arnold could hear, "i need to talk to you about what Helga did yesterday."

"We're not supposed to-"

"I know, but if you don't tell, I won't," said Gerald.

Arnold looked up at his three other friends. "Later, guys," he said.

"Bye, Arnold! Good luck on Saturday!" cried Eugene as the two walked away. He waved, but letting go of the jungle gym caused him to loose his balance and he fell over the side.

"Eugene!" exclaimed Sid, looking over the side. 

"I'm okay!"

Of to the side of the playground, in their usual spot, Gerald looked across the corner of the building. Seeing that no one was there, he started talking to Arnold. "Listen, I want to know exactly why Helga gave you fifty dollars yesterday and made you promise to kiss this girl that she doesn't even know?" he asked, very quickly.

Arnold pressed his lips together and said, "I've been thinking about that, too, Gerald." He thought for a moment about the issue. "Maybe she knows Cecile!"

"Yeah," said Gerald. "Or she could just want to make fun of you for it on Sunday," he added.

"Not helping," said Arnold. "I really don't want to think about it right now, Gerald. I mean, I already know that I kinda like this girl-"

"_Kinda_ like?" repeated Gerald. "_Kinda_ or _really_?"

Arnold shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I only spent one night with her, but I really think that I like her. I'm just not entirely sure yet." He smiled innocently.

Gerald's mouth dropped. "You mean that you're making everyone else think that you all ready like her like her, but you just _think_ that you _might_?" he asked angrily. He threw his hands in the air. "What if she's a freak?"

"She's not!" insisted Arnold. "I know that much. Why do you think I want to meet her again? I may daydream too much, but I'm not stupid."

"I know!" said Gerald. "You're one of the smartest people I know. Which is why I want to know _why the heck did you crack a deal with Helga g. Pataki?_"

"It's not that big of a deal, Gerald," he replied. "I got fifty bucks and I get to kiss a girl I like. Where's the bad?"

"Somewhere," Gerald exclaimed. He held out his arms and bent forward in a position that said who-cares-it-is-important-either-way.

Arnold sighed. "Look. One and a half more days and I'm going to be on a date with a girl I really like. I don't really care about Helga right now."

Gerald stayed in his position for a moment. Finally, he straightened out and exhaled. "Fine, Arnold. I give in, man. I guess you do have suave to not worry about it, though you are really dense for it."

Arnold lifted a brow. "Dense? I've never had anyone call me that before."

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

__

And I don't have to pretend to be French anymore! Helga thought. _All I have to do is get dressed and go. I don't have to learn French this time... thank the gods! _She took her new dress out of the closet and placed in front of her, looking in the mirror. She smiled. She could barely wait another day. Not like she didn't have to wait any longer than that.

There you go, people! I hope you all liked this short and sweet chapter. Go check out the new edition of Time to Switch! If you haven't, then don't worry. It's not a Helga/Arnold switch. That's too common for me, don't you know? Watch out for the new Through the Compact Disc, too, okay, ya'll?

You Gotta Love Her!

Briana Loves Football Head


	7. Waiting on Today POD

Valentine's Day II: My Hair Is Down

I KNOW Demile Pythia Ashford, okay? I KNOW! I'm such a dumb donkey for not updating this story! I bet all of you agree with her, hmm? "I'll see where I can fit it in" I told you. That sounded so corny when I reread that email! I also realized that Jenna is incredibly corny, too. I invented her because we had a German exchange student, but I never heard her talk. Oh, yeah, and I'd really like to see a restaurant named Chew Paris someday. Ha. Ha. Anyway, here it is guys: the next lovely chapter of V-Day II.

Disclaimer: I hate these. I just do, you know? I disclaim this. Okay, done, moving on!

"Arnold, do have a really bad itch, or are you going Curly on me?"

"Shut up, Gerald," Arnold said, rubbing his arm impatiently. "You know very well what today is."

Gerald laughed and slapped his best friend on the back. "Of course I do, Arnold. You wouldn't stop talking about it yesterday and I expect no change today. It's the oh-so-awaited for Valentine's Day."

_I know that's right_, thought Arnold, looking around the bus, desperate to get the day started and ended as quickly as possible. He had a major case of the butterflies. He and his little search had been the most talked about thing in school this past week, and today he knew it'd all be compiled together into one seeping mass of gossip and rumors, headed by the sleuthing Rhonda and her posse. His eyes began to hurt at the searching of every detail on every female student on the bus, looking for a sign of nervousness close to his, for any feature that would remind him of Cecile. It was a backbreaking obsession he'd gained over the week. This so could not be healthy for him.

"Arnold," hissed Gerald. "I'm going to move seats now." The bus stopped moving and Gerald stood up.

Arnold looked at him inquisitively. "Why are you moving?" He was answered by a nod of Gerald's head in the direction of the open door. Up popped little, black haired Phoebe. Arnold smiled and hit Gerald on the shoulder. "Go get her, tiger."

Gerald just winked in reply and met Phoebe in the aisle, smiling his suave girl-getter smile and starting a conversation with her. Arnold couldn't help but laugh. Gerald sure was better at this lady thing than he was.

As soon as Gerald's hair moved out of the way, he could see Helga, who was rolling her eyes and shaking her head in annoyance at the sight of Gerald taking her usual spot next to Phoebe. He saw he eyes scan the bus and then landing, with a surprised look, on the seat next to Arnold.

It was the last spot left on the seat.

_Great, just what I need to begin my day. Please don't mess with me, please_, he silently urged her as she sat down and looked at him, smiling a way too big smile with way too round eyes. "Hi, Arnold," she said in mock cheeriness. "Lovely day, isn't it? I'm sure it'll be a lovely night, too, hmm?"

Arnold lifted his eyebrow at Helga, silently asking her to stop talking. But she didn't.

"We're playing baseball at Gerald Field tomorrow, right?" she asked him with polite interest. Arnold knew it wasn't as it sounded. She was reminding him of the deal he'd made without breaking the rules.

Arnold nodded. "Yeah, we are. Should be a good game." Then, trying to change the subject, he said, "Helga, are you going to the dance tonight? Phoebe and Gerald are, and so are Harold and Patty, Peapod Kid and Nadine, Lorenzo and Rhonda, Lila and Stinky, Eugene and Sheena. You got a date or are you just going to go for the fling?"

Helga raised her eyebrows and looked at Arnold, then rolled her eyes and snorted. "Like I'd go to a dumb dance for Valentine's Day," she said, saying the holiday's name in a song-song voice. "Besides, I've got other plans."

"Really?" Arnold turned slightly in his seat. "What are they?"

Helga shrugged, pretending it was no big deal. _I love it when he believes every lie I say_. "Treating myself to dinner, maybe a walk in the park…" She trailed off for a moment, daydreaming. But the second's slip-up was recovered quickly. "I'm not into the whole Valentine thing; you should know that by now, Football Head."

"Yeah," Arnold replied. He turned his head and looked out the window until they reached school.

!#$%&(){}:"?

Once they entered the school, they saw the new heads of the school newspaper running around, holding up copies, and handing them to people. Rhonda walked up to one of them and took a copy. Walking back to Nadine and Lila, she immediately opened it to a certain page, thirsted it in front of their eyes, and said, "There you are, read that. Tell me how you like it."

Nadine looked up from the paper and eyed Rhonda. "You know, I'm beginning to wonder if it's possible that you're taking this a little too far."

"Oh, nonsense, Nadine," Lila said. "It's just an interesting topic. I'm sure Rhonda's findings will entertain their readers."

"Do you like the title?" Rhonda asked eagerly. "'Looking for Love: the Arnold-Cecile Story'. Okay, so it could've been better, but-"

"You listed me as a suspect!" Nadine cried, pointing to her name in the article. "You know that I'm not Cecile, what's that about, huh?"

Rhonda shook her head slowly, smiling. "Nadine, Nadine, Nadine, come on, you know the First Amendment: Freedom of the press. Especially is it makes it interesting. This whole thing was a hot topic for the entire week, now it's sizzling!" She took the paper back greedily and read her article with a smile on her face. "Besides, I didn't just pin you down; I gave you the least credit of all. Every single blond person who was in our school last year, and, you know, that sixth grader Connie, who I heard went out with Gerald once, those two people in the sixth grade this year, Helga… Oh, yeah, and that Kylie person in fourth grade."

Lila bit her lip. "You included Helga? Don't you think that… well, isn't that a little out there?" Of course she had a very, very good idea of who Cecile really was, but she would never tell, for fear of her neck. She had very grotesque ideas of what the result would be if she told.

"No one is excluded in my research until we are finally told who this Cecile is," Rhonda said. "Including Helga."

"What about me?"

Rhonda flipped around quickly to see Helga standing behind her, arms crossed in expectation. "Well? What about me?"

Rhonda tried to smile as she handed Helga the paper. "I made you famous. Well, obviously not as famous as any of the other people in there, because you're definitely the least expected, but…"

Helga's eyes narrowed as she scanned the article, finally resting on the paragraph about her. She threw the paper at Rhonda and exclaimed, "What the heck is that about, Princess? Didn't I tell you I'm not that freak Cecile girl? When are you going to cut the crap, huh?"

Nadine looked like she was about to add something, then decided not to.

"You're not special, Helga," Rhonda snarled. "No one thinks it's you, anyway. Didn't you read the part about how unlikely it'd be that you were this Cecile person?"

_Oh, how wrong you are_, Helga thought deviously. "You're absolutely right. But if anyone bugs me today, thinking I'm Cecile, I'm blaming it on you." She glared, then said, "Happy Valentines Day."

And with that she stormed off.

"You know, Rhonda, the same goes for me," Nadine said after Helga had left. "If I get bothered, it's your fault."

"How can you say that?" Rhonda asked, shocked that her best friend would agree with Helga. "It's just a stupid article! I have to write this stuff, it's the gossip column!"

Lila nodded in agreement. "Rhonda's sorry that you're offended, Nadine," Lila said brightly. "As soon as tomorrow comes, I'm just ever so certain that you're name will be cleared. This won't last."

Nadine was still annoyed, but she decided not to linger on it. This was Rhonda, after all, her best friend; no matter how disturbed she was thinking of everyone's reactions after the school read the paper. "Yeah, okay, then."

The bell rang, and everyone went to class.

!#$%&(){}:"?

"Okay, class, we all know what day it is. It's Valentine's Day, the glorious day of caring and friendship and love. You all have your cards, and the bags you made in art the other day are on your desk. So, start handing out your cards, now."

As soon as the words escaped Mr. Packenham's mouth, the whole class stood to pass along their cards.

Arnold walked around the room, sticking his handmade Valentine cards into the appropriate bags. Gerald, Sid, Stinky, Nadine, Lila (he erased the old message and wrote a new one the night before), Brainy, Helga, Harold, Peapod Kid, Lorenzo, Eugene, Sheena. He reached his own bag and dumped out the contents, searching through them, reading the cards. There was a Pop Daddy one from Gerald, a computer themed one from Phoebe, a wrestling one from Helga, a card with frog stickers all over from Sid, a card with a teddy bear from Lila, a Crocodile Hunter card from Harold, and plenty of candy.

He was about to pack the cards back into his bag when his eyes rested on a card he hadn't seen until then. He ripped the sticker off of it and read in fancy, cursive handwriting:

See you at Chez Paris tonight, Arnold.

Love,

Cecile.

Arnold reread the Valentine, and then searched over the classroom. That was it. Cecile was somewhere in this class, or someone knew who she was and delivered it for her. Chances were it was the first one. But he didn't see anyone it could possibly be.

Once again his thoughts drifted to Helga, but he shook it out of his mind. No way would it be her. (Readers: Aww…) But maybe Gerald was right and she knew Cecile, who she was. He'd have to ask.

He got up from his desk and walked over to Gerald's. He placed the card he'd gotten from Cecile on his desk. He stared down on it for a moment, looked up at Arnold, and said, "Arnold, buddy, you already gave me one of these. Did you forget?"

Arnold gave him an annoyed look. "Open it," he said, exasperated.

Gerald opened it and his eyes skimmed over the note. Then, just as Arnold did, he looked around the room. "Is she in here?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," replied Arnold. "No one in here looks like her. The only person who looks anything like her is either Jenna or Helga, and we both know how impossible those two are. I think Helga really does know who Cecile is, though."

Gerald was fingering a rather large Valentine card, but he couldn't see anything on it. Arnold gazed pointedly at it and Gerald snatched it and stuffed it in his bag. "What?" he asked.

"Let me see that," Arnold said. "I know what it is."

"It's just another Valentine!"

"You seem to really like that Valentine," Arnold replied, trying to snatch the bag, but Gerald was blocking his way. "Give it to me!" He laughed.

"No!" Finally, the bag was taken from Gerald's hand. But it wasn't by Arnold's tan hand. It was a pale hand that took it.

"Here you go, Football Head," Helga said, tossing it to Arnold, who quickly shifted through the bag and took the Valentine out.

"You got to read mine, so I get to read yours." Then he fully took in the scene and stared at Helga.

Gerald was glaring at her with an intense anger, but Helga was just looking at Arnold smiling. "Go ahead and read it before Gerald gets his senses back." He then looked around briefly to see half of the class silently observing the scene.

Arnold took her advice and read the card quickly. Then he smiled, stuck it back in the bag, and handed it to Gerald. "See, the world didn't end, did it?" Now Gerald's eyes were switching from him to Helga, confused. Arnold would've thought this was funny if he wasn't confused about Helga, too.

Helga glared at them both and said, "What? Am I suddenly a zoo animal because I want to know what the thing says, too? You have to tell me, now, I helped." She looked at Arnold, expectantly.

"That's kind of why we're staring," Gerald said.

Phoebe grabbed Helga's arm at the elbow, suddenly, and gave her an angry look. Then, before she could react, Helga was being pulled over to Phoebe's desk and being talked to sternly. "Why did you have to do that, and right after I told you what I did, what was that about?"

Helga pulled her arm back and replied sternly, "Oh, like he wouldn't tell him in time, anyway."

"You didn't have to go and grab the attention of the class!"

"They're all too busy talking about that crackpot Cecile, see, they're already talking about it!"

They both turned to a group beside them and heard them reading the school paper together, looking around the class at those who were suspected to be her.

"Oh," Helga growled, "I swear, I'm going to kill Rhonda."

Soon after, Mr. Simmons called for the class to settle down for the day's lesson: Roman mythology.

!#$%&(){}:"?

Helga closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "Oh, Arnold, I'm so happy!" she sighed. "Finally, my Cupid has looked for the one he so unknowingly wounded with his poison tipped arrow!" She stopped talking, looked at herself hard and long in the mirror she was looking in, and said, "You know, I think I'm just going to get ready now."

Next to the mirror hung her dress, and below it sat the package her jewelry came in, her shoes, a hair curler, and the old shoe. She slipped into her dress and shoes and walked into the bathroom, with her hair curler and make up in tow. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and stared at herself.

"I need to call Phoebe," she finally said, and went back into her room to change.

After dressing into her normal clothes, and making sure she'd have enough time to go to her friend's house and be prepared for an explanation if need be. She went to her phone and dialed Phoebe's number. When she answered, it was surprising.

"Gerald?"

Helga was so surprised, and in a way, revolted, that she didn't speak for a while. Finally, when the words could come out, she said, "Phoebe… all I can say is that you really do not need an ice cream, if you follow."

She could practically feel Phoebe blushing from blocks away. "Oh, hello, Helga. I apologize. What is it you want?"

"Can I go to your house so you can help me? Please, I am incredibly clueless on this kind of thing, and last time I tried, I got way too carried away." She shivered at the memory of the cotton balls.

"Why, of course, Helga!" Phoebe sounded ecstatic. "But you have to help me prepare for the dance, too, okay?"

Helga bit her tongue with her molar. "Uh, yeah, Pheebs? About that… I'm not going."

There was a pause where she could tell Phoebe was trying to work out what she'd said. "Then… why do you want me to help you get ready in the clothes you were supposed to wear to the dance?"

She sucked in her breath and said, "Phoebe… oh, man, whatever," she said, dropping the suspense. "Who did you think Cecile was, anyway?"

Phoebe squealed. "Oh, I knew it, I knew it all along! This is so exciting!"

"Yeah, Phoebe, you're a genius, and that I've ALWAYS known," Helga replied sarcastically.

"Well, then, Helga, get you're butt over here this instant! I have to help you now!"

Helga sighed in relief. "Thanks, Pheebs, you're a lifesaver. I don't know what I'd do without you!"

"I'll see you soon, Helga." With that, she hung up, and Helga gathered her things, ran downstairs past her parents grinning at each other and sipping champagne, and down to the sidewalk. _Oh, yeah. It's definitely Valentine's Day is THAT'S happening…_

!#$%&(){}:"?

He adjusted his tie, fixed his shirt, and tried the fix his hat so that it looked just right. Arnold looked at his reflection and, when satisfied, sat down and fingered the shoe that was on his desk. He looked at the clock for the third time in the last minute, and saw, yet again, he had five minutes before Cecile was going to be there.

He had written his pen pal, the real Cecile, recently, and explained everything that had happened last year. She thought it was profusely funny, that someone would like him so much that they would stoop to impersonation to spend a date with me. After he heard her thoughts on it, he found it funny, too.

Cecile. It didn't seem to work anymore, did it, calling the person he was about to meet by that name. He was hurt that he hadn't been trusted with her true name, but afterwards, accepted her insecurity. But still, he knew he'd have to spend at least most of the date calling her Cecile.

He had a major case of the butterflies yet again that day, and at a certain moment walked into the bathroom, prepared to retch until they had calmed considerably. Every time he looked at the clock they grew worse and worse.

The hallway had no clocks.

Arnold grabbed the shoe and headed down into the hallway. Ernie was walking towards his room, and when he spotted Arnold, he grinned. Arnold knew very well what was about to come…

"Hey, Arnold! I hear you've got a hot date with a nice girl tonight."

Arnold smiled, embarrassed. "Yeah? Have you also heard I have no idea which girl it is I'm being paired with?"

"Yeah, I heard that," he said, stopping his walk next to Arnold, looking up at him with an almost proud look. "Little man's about to be a big man."

What else was he supposed to do except smile with a gratified look. "Ernie, I'm only ten. I haven't even fully hit puberty."

Ernie shook his head. "Ah, ah, correction! You're ten-going-one-eleven. You're birthday is next month." (Right? It's too late to do research, man, it's in March, right?)

Suddenly, Arnold's Grandma appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a ceremonial eighteenth century style ballroom gown. "You're Duchess awaits, good sir," she said, bowing stylishly. From below them, his Grandpa called, "You're date's here, Arnold! Don't eat the berries in the salad, you never know what kind they are!"

Arnold smiled and swallowed the spit that'd accumulated in his mouth. "Thanks Grandma," he said, and, carrying the shoe in his right hand, made his way past the adults and into the doorway, where, at the bottom of the stoop, stood a girl his age with golden hair, curved with expertise so that it covered up a total of two-thirds of her face, a red dress that went halfway down her shins, ribbons tied in zig-zag forms on her forearms, and a red rhinestone necklace. Her hands were behind her back, and she looked up to him, smiled, and said, "Hey. Are you ready?"

Am I cruel? I SWEAR almost the entire date will be covered in the next chapter, no matter how long I must make it!

On a different note, if you've read through my story Explanations, you know that I have been at a dead end with it. If you read Through the Compact Disc when it was just recently updated and reviewed, you don't have to go through this again. Tell me how you want the next chapter of Explanations to go, please? So I can get started? I NEED to it's been itching at me forever! Choose from the following, just stick a letter in ur review, and be happily on you're way!

A. Rhonda and Harold are on the phone discussing Helga and Arnold's budding relationship.

B. Arnold and Gerald are talking about Arnold's complex feelings in the issue (Trust me, there are some).

C. Helga brooding about the kids at school and daydreaming about Arnold.

D. Gerald, Phoebe, Lila, and Sid talking about what's going on and their different clashes.

Remember, this is only the beginning for the chapter.

Thanks a lot!

-BrianaLFBH


	8. First Date: Blink 182

Valentine's Day II: My Hair Was Down 

Special Corner:

Demile: Breathe… breathe, okay, please, I need you to breathe so I can have my Every Time It Rains! I highly recommend all Rhonda and Lila haters, all Helga-Goth lovers, and anyone who likes the scent of apricot to read it. Thanks for liking my story.

WayAmy27Narf: AH! falls out of bed Hey, buddy, try not to scream like that, some people enjoy nap time! And thanks for sticking me on your Author Alert, by the way. Peace sign

Tiffy JC: Oh, yeah… well… she was drugged out, right? Does it count? Okay, yeah, it does, sorry then. Totally forgot about the time she was at the dentist. Thanks for reading.

Okay… so… do any of you want me to waste time with my usual paragraph long talk-to? (All stare expectantly, tapping feet with impatience.) No? (Readers: STOP TALKING!) Okay…

Disclaimer: Lawyers must be crack heads if they need one of these per chapter. I still don't own this junk, you guys, it's not like I'm going to claim I bought all of the rights to this stuff overnight! Oh, wait, lookie, I did! Just kidding… to my displeasure… hey, what's with the handcuffs, guys?

"Hey. Are you ready?"

For a moment, Arnold could only stare at her. Then, shaking himself out of the statue position, he nodded nervously. "Yeah. Did you, um, want to come in?"

Cecile looked like she was about to say no, but then thought better of it. He was glad. He suddenly didn't feel able to walk anywhere at the moment. "Sure, Arnold. If it's all right with you're grandparents."

Arnold opened the door wider and stepped back to allow her in. When she was halfway up the steps, a herd of running animals pushed her back down. Arnold jumped and ran down the stoop to help her up. "Sorry, I'm so sorry, Cecile, I guess you didn't know that would happen. I totally forgot that they do that." He held out his hand for her to use for support, but she ignored it and pushed herself from the ground.

"It's okay, Arnold," she panted. She was surprised by the stampede. "Quite a variety of animals you've got there, Foo… Food must be a problem, hmm?" she asked tensely, a tone that Arnold noticed but decided not to point out.

"Um… yeah, sometimes," he answered. He started to walk back up the steps. "Are you coming?"

Cecile ran a finger through the back of her hair and straightened her dress. "Yes."

Once inside, Arnold closed the door and turned to her. "So," he said, smiling. "Now it's a British accent?

Cecile smiled mischievously at him. "So, what? Maybe I like variety."

They stood in the hallway awkwardly for a moment, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Arnold said, "Do you want to say hi to my grandparents?"

She sighed lightly, grateful for something to do other than standing. "Of course I do." They both walked into the dining room, where the boarders and Arnold's grandparents sat eating dinner. His grandmother was still in her ballroom getup. They all looked up as the two of them appeared in the doorframe. Some smiled at them, some stood from their chairs, and some waved in greeting.

Phil, however, felt his eyes widen in surprise and the little color in his face drain away. Then, he grinned and chuckled to himself. Cecile, seeing this, tilted her head forward so the giant sized waves in her hair would fall a little more in her face, hiding her features. Before Arnold could introduce her, Phil stood up, still grinning, and said, "Miss Cecile, I presume. Hello, Arnold's spoken so much about you lately." Cecile smiled a little behind her hair, and Arnold looked embarrassed. "I'm Arnold's grandpa, Phil, and this crazy lady right here is Pookie." He jabbed his thumb at her. "How are you tonight, Cecile?"

Cecile looked up slightly and smiled politely. "I'm fine," she said quietly.

"Oh, there's no need to be shy," Susie said, holding out a hand for her to shake. "I'm Susie Kokashka, and this is my husband… Oscar." She looked at him (still eating), and then returned her gaze to Cecile. "So, Arnold, where are you two going tonight?"

"Chez Paris," he answered. "In fact, we'd better leave now if we want to get there in time. Bye, guys."

Cecile nodded to the group, and walking next to Arnold, exited the room. When they boarders heard the door close, they busted out into conversation.

"She's really pretty, Arnold's got a way with the ladies," Ernie said, leaning forward on the table to express his point.

Susie elbowed Oscar. "Why didn't we go to a nice place tonight, huh?"

Oscar swallowed and said, "I thought you wanted to have a nice night at home, Susie."

"Yeah, right, you just didn't have any money."

"That, too."

Pookie was rubbing her hand over her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… she looked an awful lot like Eleanor Roosevelt, didn't she?"

All of the boarders turned to stare at her for a moment. Finally, Hr. Huynh said, "Isn't Eleanor Roosevelt… dead?"

Phil laughed and patted Pookie on the back. "You know, I really think that is Eleanor."

"Yeah?" Ernie said, not understanding at all. "Well, I think she looks more like that scary little girl that Arnold keeps complaining about, but I'm pretty sure that's not…" He ended his train of thought when he saw the pointed gaze Phil was giving him. "Ooooh!"

!#$%&(){}:" ?

It was working out so incredibly well, Helga almost thought she was dreaming. Phoebe had styled her hair so that the waves would almost always cover most of her eyes, cheeks, and anything else besides the middle parts of her face. It had also been her idea to use an accent, again, to disguise her voice until the end of the night. There was the time a few minutes ago where she was pretty sure Arnold's grandfather had recognized her, but if he had, she was extremely relieved that he hadn't said anything. He was a good liar, that Phil.

And Arnold had no idea, either. This was Helga's greatest pride, that even as she showed up right in front of him, he had been fooled, just as last year. Her and Phoebe were either geniuses or Arnold definitely wasn't. She liked to think it was her and Phoebe.

They had been walking down the sidewalk for a while before Arnold said, "You look beautiful, you know."

Helga smiled and tried to keep her heart from pounding too hard. _Arnold just said I was beautiful! I think I'm going to die! _Instead of voicing her thoughts, she said, "Thanks, Arnold. You look good, too." As always, she silently added.

Arnold grinned and said, "Thanks. By the way, you're British accent is a lot better than your French one. It sounds more sophisticated."

Helga stopped and eyed Arnold for a moment. "Arnold," she said, "are you trying to make a point that you don't yet know who I am?"

"Yeah," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and sighing. "Am I that obvious?"

"Yes, you are," Helga said simply, trying to tease him in a light fashion, not getting carried away like usual. _Remember, I'm not risking anything here. He doesn't know it's me yet. _"And if I were you, I'd work on my subtlety. In case you didn't fully realize it, every single blond female in the grades four through six is being accused of being me. I know it's not your fault, but I hear that some of them are very, very mad at Rhonda."

The two of them began to walk again, this time, not in silence. "About that," Arnold said, "are you even one of the people Rhonda wrote about in her article? You don't look like anyone I know, but you have to be at my school if you know about this stuff!"

Helga bit her lip, tasting her lip-gloss. She pulled her teeth back and turned to him. How could she keep pulling his suspicion? "I don't think I can answer that just yet. I'm sorry. Can we stop talking about that and, I don't know, maybe talk about something else?"

Arnold nodded, feeling embarrassed again. "Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I'm just a little impatient, you know?" They walked a few more beats before he said, "But can I ask you one thing? Just one?"

Helga looked sideways at him, but she wasn't sure he could see through her hair. "I guess," she replied. She was worried about what it would be.

"Do you know that girl I kept talking about last year, Helga? The one who picks on me a lot?"

Helga nodded, relieved it wasn't something else. "Arnold, if I know about Rhonda, what makes you think I don't know about her?"

"No, wait, I worded that wrong," he said quickly. "I meant to say did you know her well, like are you two good friends or what, because she keeps talking to me about you."

Okay, this definitely wasn't what Helga expected. If it weren't so chancy she would think it was ironic. Her heart ate was increasing again, but it wasn't good. "Uh… well, uh, yeah, you could say that. I mean, yes, I know her pretty well." She groaned inside. Why had she stuttered?

Arnold looked at her for a long time, thinking. He said just one question, so he knew he had to drop it now, but he couldn't help but wonder…

!#$%&(){}:" ?

"Bon jour, monsieur, mademoiselle, welcome to Chez Paris. Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes," Arnold said to the host. "It should be under the name Arnold."

"Arnold what?"

"Arnold -"

"Ah, yes, here we are, the only Arnold on the list." He said. Arnold thought he heard Cecile sigh in annoyance, but he didn't know why. They were led to their table, seated, and handed a menu.

Cecile scanned over the menu, trying to find what she wanted to eat. Arnold looked over his menu and suggested, "So, uh, do you want to start with an appetizer?"

"Sure, what do you want?"

After they had ordered and went halfway through their appetizer, Arnold felt the heavy silence fall on them. He didn't want it there, he wanted to talk about something, but what could they talk about? He knew this wasn't his Parisian friend, so she was probably just about as average as him. He'd start with the average things. "So, Cecile, do you like sports?"

Cecile swallowed the food in her mouth and nodded. "Yeah, I do. A whole lot. And you?"

"Yeah, I love them, especially baseball. I had a fit of Dangerous Lumber once, though, and I couldn't stop conking people over the side of the head whenever I hit the ball."

Cecile giggled and Arnold had to laugh with her. Her laugh was mostly warm, but also a little mocking. "Oh, my God, I'm glad whenever I play baseball I'm not to close to the front of the bat."

Arnold picked up a cheese stick (BLFBH: yeah, I know that's not very gourmet, but I haven't exactly been to a French cuisine restaurant lately!) and said, "Have you ever been to Gerald Field?"

"Yeah, from time to time. I don't ever really get too involved, though." She took a sip of her iced tea. "I see you play often, though, and I think it's hilarious whenever that Harold has to eat his words."

"Thanks… wait, you are complimenting me on beating him, right?" he asked, to make sure he wasn't being foolish and saying thanks for no reason.

Cecile smiled again. "What did you think I was doing?" Her smile was innocent and shy and Arnold loved it.

"So what's your favorite sport if not baseball? Soccer, basketball…?"

"Wrestling," Cecile automatically said, then covered her mouth quickly. He didn't know if it was because she said wrestling was her favorite sport or because for a split second her accent had slipped.

He lifted an eyebrow and said, "Wrestling? I always thought that was a guy thing."

Cecile relaxed and nodded. "It was my dad who got me into it, really. He watches it all of the time, I've grown into it."

"Why do you like wrestling, though?" he asked, enjoying the fact that they were having a real conversation. "Isn't it a little violent?"

"Oh, yeah!" she exclaimed. "But it's all fake violence, anyway, you barely ever even see blood or anything. Now, boxing, that is one violent sport. I heard Mike Tyson bit off someone's ear! Isn't that disgusting?"

"Uh… Cecile," Arnold said. "I'm eating."

"Oh. Sorry." She looked like she had made a vile mistake and was trying to hide it.

"Hey… hey, Cecile, I didn't throw up yet, you know." Cecile rolled her eyes at the comment, but it looked like she knew it wasn't a big deal.

The two of them continued to talk through dinner, and Arnold was learning more and more about her. It seemed that she told him pretty much anything that wouldn't give her identity away, but at the moment, he didn't think too much on that. He learned she enjoyed art, like writing and making things from everyday trash, while he liked cinematography and drawing. They shared opinions on movies and the news, agreeing in some places, and arguing in others. She was really dedicated to her point, stubborn almost. They talked about music. He liked modern jazz and soft rock, she (yet again, surprisingly) liked metal and hard rock, but they shared common likings. They talked about school a little bit, and he found out that Cecile didn't like Lila… at all. She tried to be polite about it, though, but it looked at one time that she really hated her. _I'm very glad I don't like her like that or I would've stormed out of here after that look_, Arnold thought disturbingly.

"Hey, Arnold?" Cecile said, looking a little nervous. Not for the first time that night.

He wondered why she was so nervous this time, when last time she seemed both happy and a little ticked off at a certain point. "Yes?" he asked.

"Why was your grandma wearing an eighteenth century Victorian style ballroom gown? Does she do that often?"

Arnold laughed. "Everyday!" he said. "According to her, my name is Kimba, watermelon is the national food of Japan, and she is frequently visited by Eleanor Roosevelt. She's pretty… well, she's imaginative, if you catch my drift."

Cecile's face was blank for a moment, but then she nodded. "Yeah, I get you… Arnold?"

"Yes?"

Cecile twirled her hair around her finger and looked around the crowded restaurant, filled with adult couples or groups of high school friends on double dates. "Arnold, if you don't mind me asking, why do you live with your grandparents, anyway?"

Arnold dropped his fork with his steak tartare (sp?) on it. He froze up for a minute, staring at his late, but then his eyes moved up to a concerned looking Cecile. "Why?" he asked, maybe a little colder than he should have said it.

Cecile bit her tongue and leaned forward over the table. "I'm sorry, if you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. If it's that bad, then…" She paused when he looked up at her, almost standing in her chair. "I'm sorry I brought it up. I-"

"No, I…" he sighed. "I'm sorry, it's not your fault, you're just curious. I've just never had anyone ask me about that before."

"Not even your friend Gerald?"

He shook his head. "No. If he ever did, I told him I didn't really know, except for the stories my grandpa used to tell me."

"Arnold, if you don't want to say…"

"Look," he said seriously, "it isn't like I'm not going to tell you. Because I am. It's actually a very interesting story, most of it…"

So he told the story of his parents that he'd learned both from his grandfather and his dad's journal. Through most of it, Cecile was silent, listening with wide eyes, as if with every word he said she grew greedy for more. "So they left me at the boarding house, saying they'd be back in, like, a week. I turns out they didn't come back… but there's no evidence they aren't coming back, though."

"Wow," Cecile breathed, stunned. "I can't believe it. If I'd known that I would've stopped my…" She hesitated and said, "Yeah, well, my parents aren't so hot. You're grandparents seemed a lot nicer than mine, and you have so many people living with you. You're more loved than I am, at least." She looked downcast and avoided eye contact.

Her hand hadn't moved ever since she'd stood up, and it was halfway across the table. Arnold could reach it if he wanted to. And he wanted to. He took her hand in his and she looked up, surprised. "Yeah?" Arnold asked, smiling. "Who says?"

Cecile kept her shocked expression for another second and then she smiled. "Thanks," she whispered. They held hands for a few more seconds before both pulled back awkwardly, looking down at their near empty plates. "Have you finished?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm done. Are you?" She nodded, too. "Are you ready to leave?" She nodded again. "Uh, waiter?"

"Don't you mean garcon (sp)?" Cecile joked.

The waiter appeared and handed them the bill. Arnold paid him, and stood from his seat. He was going to go over to Cecile's chair and pull it back for her, but she had stood already. "Oh," she said. She smiled innocently. "Did you want to be a gentleman?"

"Yeah," Arnold said. "If it isn't too much trouble."

"Nope!" Cecile chimed, and happily sat back down and pulled herself up to the table. Arnold laughed with her as he pulled her chair back. It was pretty childish that they make a point in this. He held out a hand for her to take to step out, but she pushed it away. "I let you do that, you don't have to be too nice. Thanks, though."

Together they walked out of the restaurant.

!#$%&(){}:" ?

Helga could sing.

She was too smart, though, and the biggest thing she let out ever was a joyous laugh at something Arnold did. It was hard keeping up the British accent, and making sure her hair was always hiding parts of her face. It was working beautifully, though, even better than last year… Of course, last year he thought she was a brunette, but still!

The two of them were walking side by side down the sidewalk. Helga was nibbling on the candy hearts with little lovey-dovey messages on them. They had each bought a box (well, Arnold had bought one for her), and were making fun of the worst notes. "You know what I don't like on these?" Arnold said. "The ones in Internet grammar. Because when the hearts rub together and some letters get rubbed off, you don't have any other letters to make out what the word says. Also it just looks stupid."

"Well, that's observant," Helga said mockingly. "No, I mean really, that's a very specific pet peeve."

"It is not a pet peeve," Arnold said defiantly. "It's just dumb."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh… it's a pet peeve, Arnold, but at least it only comes once a year. Don't deny it."

Arnold sighed and popped a heart in his mouth. "Whatever you say, Cecile," he droned.

Helga looked at him for a moment and the snorted in laughter. She half-expected him to say her real name at the end of that; she heard it so often. Arnold looked at her in confusion. "What's so funny?"

Her laughter quickly died down and she regained her composure. "Nothing, nothing," she answered.

"Okay," he said slowly, obviously waiting for her to let him in on the joke. Seeing he wasn't going to get it, he picked up another candy heart and read the message aloud. "Foxy mama." He looked at her grinning. "I wonder what a guy normally does if someone gives him this one."

"Probably tosses it back and asks for another," Helga suggested, digging in hers for a red one. "The white and green ones are horrible tasting, you know." She picked one up and said, "I love you."

Arnold looked up quickly. "Huh?!"

"That's what it says," Helga said, not noticing his reaction just yet. "The candy."

Blinking, Arnold looked forward again. "Yeah…. Hey, I'll eat your white ones if you want, I think they're okay."

Helga looked up at him, biting her lip. _He got all jumpy when I said… Oh, man, did he or was I just imagining it? _She handed him the white heart in her hand, the one she'd just read. "Thanks," she said. She shrugged it off and picked up a red one, not reading the note. She bent her head to see past Arnold, across the street. They were about to pass the City Park main entrance. She grabbed his arm and pulled him across the street, ignoring his yelps.

"Cecile… hey, Cecile, what are you doing?"

She was running with him pulled behind her, until they reached the entrance. She stopped and leaned forward, catching her breath. She stood up and jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. "I wanted to go through the park. You coming?"

Arnold cocked his head, staring at her. Then he shrugged. "You're really spontaneous, you know that?"

"Oh, and like you're not?" Helga shot back. "Mister Post-Notices-To-Get-A-Date-At-The-Last-Moment."

"Thanks a lot," Arnold said sarcastically, following her into the park.

A few minutes later, they were in the center of the park. Helga cupped her hands in front of her face and blew in them, then rubbed them together. Arnold looked at her and placed a hand on his coat. "Are you cold?"

"Naw, I'm fine," Helga said, pretending to be unaffected by the cold February air. She saw Arnold looking at her with determined eyes, and she groaned. "Fine, I'm freezing! Can I have that please?"

He smiled and handed her his jacket, feeling satisfied. He looked around the park, eyes half-closed in contentment. "It's really cool here at night," he pointed out.

"Seriously," Helga mumbled, holding the jacket tight.

"No, I mean it's cool _looking_," Arnold said. "It looks completely different than it does in the daylight."

Helga glanced around, and nodded. "You're right. I'm here at night all the time and I've never taken the time to notice that fully." She pointed up at the night sky. "You can't see too many stars, but the moon is pretty big, huh?"

"Not even full and it's huge," Arnold noted, following Helga's gaze. "I hate it when I can't see the stars. One time Gerald and I got the whole city to turn off it's lights, though, so we could see Sally's comet. Too bad we can't do that every night."

"That was really awesome, you doing that," Helga said quietly. "It was really impressive. You even got my dad to turn off his lights, and do you know how much of a miracle that is?" She laughed and then looked away. It was still strange, complimenting him to his face.

Arnold kicked at the dirt on the path and smiled. "Yeah, Gerald claims that someday we'll be legends for all the stuff we do. Gerald can have a pretty big head sometimes, though. I don't think we're big enough to be legends."

"You're too modest Arnold!" Helga said. "You may not be legends, yeah, but the stuff you do… what I've heard you've done, it's huge. Like I said, impressive."

Arnold smiled and looked down. It looked like he was looking at her knees. Helga took a chance and followed his line of sight. He was eyeing her hand. She shot her eyes back up and pretended not to notice, save for her opening her hand a little, hopefully. Arnold's eyes moved away and he crossed his arms tightly. A giant balloon that had inflated in Helga's gut deflated quickly. "Thanks, Cecile," Arnold said, and he fell out of step with her. Helga bent her head forward a little so as not to look affected too much by Arnold's decision. She moved it out of her mind and set her thoughts on something else.

Helga smiled and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She could tell Arnold really liked Cecile. "So, Arnold…" she said, twisting around to look at him behind her. "Figured who I am yet?"

Arnold lifted and eyebrow and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "No, I haven't. But I've been trying really hard…." He looked at the ground for a few seconds and then looked back at her. "Why ask me that now?"

Helga bit her lip and rubbed her right arm. "Well… because. If you figured it out, then I don't have to do what I'm about to do." Her hand rested on the spot where the ribbons on her arms tied. She messed with the knot and loosed it, pulling it off of her arm. Arnold's face was contorted with surprise and confusion. _Wow, I've gotten this far and he still doesn't know? He probably doesn't want to… but he's gonna._

She turned around and bent forward so her hair fell forward. She lifted her ribbon to her hair…

(Readers: GASP!) Cliffhanger? (Readers: Ya! leans forward in seat, thinking Briana I only tricking them and is really going to continue)Laughs evilly Nope! But trust me, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this. Go ahead, throw that fruit at me, I don't like tomatoes anyway, too soft and gooey. (Readers: These are BRITISH tomatoes…) Eep! Tomato war! Runs to safety of boarding house You'll never take me alive! NEVA!(Readers: Like we care, we just want you to update again! Before we all DIE!) Fine, fine, doing… and if I'm too late, I'll send your loved ones a lovely gift basket.

And do you know how hard it was during the Arnold point of views to keep him thinking Cecile and not Helga? I had to backspace Helga's name a bazillion times, man! I know at the beginning of the story. The scene with the candy hearts… yeah, if anyone read a story with a scene similar to that one, tell me what the title was. I know I read it somewhere and didn't remember until after I wrote it, I want to make sure I didn't subconsciously plagiarize.

BrianaLFBH


	9. Uh Any Suggestions for a Title?

Valentine's Day II: My Hair Was Down 

Special Corner:

Sylvia Silverton: Yes, ma'am! Pops into straight position with salute First reviewer, awesome.

Sonia: What is it with all of these people who want to KILL me? Huh? I'm flattered, but don't you guys know that if I die then no one else is there to type the story? Huh!?

AHHelga: Was that meant as a pun? Your French? Anyways, forgiven, I use enough of that anyway.

Should I even dare bother you guys with the usual talkative-ness? (Readers: NO! throws British tomatoes) Fine! (Readers: It wasn't quick anyway, like you promised!) (Phebga: I know that's right.) Sigh Everyone, say hello to Phebga. She's back in MY introductions, again! (Phebga: Well, HI!) (Readers: All stare expressionless.) (Phebga: … Yo, BB, am I in trouble with these guys?) (Phebga Readers: YOU HAVEN'T UPDATED EITHER!) Ha! Huzzah, I'm not the target anymore! (Phebga Readers: Let's chase her until As Far As I Can is updated!) Yes! (Phebga: runs in terror Briana, save me! Guys, I'm sorry, I've had sports, camps, stiff like that!) (Phebga Readers: We want If You Feel Like Letting Go! BSSEI! Boo-GA!) Oh, God, they have a battle cry? That's just sad. (Phebga: Well, you see, if they like my stuff, they've got to be weird like that.) (Phebga Readers: Boo-GA!) Jaysus! I'd update, if I were you. (Readers: Hey, quit chatting, we came here to read this one! Go away!) That's a brilliant idea. (Readers: This was talkative-ness.) SHADDUP!

Helga turned around and bent forward so her hair fell forward. She lifted her ribbon to her hair and bunched it into two pigtails. She made sure Arnold couldn't see everything she was doing. He was staring at her from behind, excited and impatient, obviously. Helga took a deep breath, flattened her hair as best as she could, and turned around. _Please, please don't cause a disaster…_

When her face was visible to Arnold, she paid close attention to his reaction. At first Arnold looked shocked. He blinked and squinted his eyes, as if trying to make sure this wasn't an illusion. Once he fully knew it was Helga, Helga G. Pataki, who had been Cecile all night, his jaw dropped. "Heh… Helga?" he asked, voice squeaking.

Helga, who had been holding her breath ever since standing straight, let her chest drop. "You sound surprised," she said quietly. She smiled, trying not to let the bully he knew show too much.

"Well, duh!" Arnold yelled. He bent forward to look at her closer. Bending back, he said, "Have you been Cecile all this time?"

The smile on Helga's face faltered as she nodded her answer. He didn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. It was as plain as day in his body language and tone of voice. She felt like she should walk away now, but she sucked it up. "Is there something wrong?"

Arnold sighed. "Helga, please don't tell me this is a joke."

"It is not a joke, Arnold!" Helga cried. This was what she was afraid of. Denial. "I've been Cecile all night, I was Cecile a year ago, and I've been Cecile this whole time!"

Arnold put a hand to his temple to try to calm down. This was way too much. Hadn't he and Gerald specifically said, _known_, that Helga was the total opposite of Cecile? At least when it came to how they acted around him, they were. Okay, Cecile was a little temperamental last year, but still! Helga was almost always cruel to him… but then there was the time… she always bullied him…. "You've seriously, truly, been Cecile, all the way, this whole time?" Arnold asked desperately.

"Yes!" Helga yelled. "Arnold, I like you, I have for such a long time! Pretending to be Cecile was the one way I could express that, because there was no way you'd believe me otherwise. Do you not want me to be here Arnold, because I can just go if you don't like this." She wanted him to say no, so she could stay.

"Helga, please, don't act like that," Arnold said. "You just… give me some time, okay? You have to know this is… wow, _you_ are Cecile?"

"Didn't we clarify that?" Helga said, frustrated.

He held up a hand to try and silence her. "Hey, I'm trying to get over it! Please, just give me a second." He blew out his air and turned around, trying to think it through. If Helga had been Cecile and she wasn't just pulling a nasty joke, then that meant that she really did like him like that. But he liked Cecile. Did that mean he liked Helga? Technically it did, but it was too astounding. He looked back at her. She looked prepared for the worst. "Helga, why did you do this?"

She lifted her hands to her face and pushed them together, down her face to her chin. "I already told you why, Arnold," she moaned. "Yes, I like you. Yes, I have liked you since before last Valentine's Day. The only two differences from the Valentine's Days are that I haven't had to be a bully and my hair was down." She stopped and looked up at Arnold awkwardly, hanging her head slightly. "There's only one question now that I really care about."

Arnold's head straightened as he realized what the question was exactly. "Oh." He had to think about that one. True, he did admit to himself long ago that he really liked Cecile, no matter who she was. But he wasn't really expecting Helga to be Cecile! This meant he really liked Helga like… that. He almost couldn't get his brain around it, but when he did, it was hard to stomach. Basically his whole body was having trouble registering the fact that he liked Helga and Helga liked him. "Helga, I… I…." He moaned and sat down on a bench near by. He hung his head between his legs and ran a hand over his head. "This is weird. I mean, Helga, how am I supposed to believe this easily? The way you usually act is, like, the total opposite of earlier!"

Helga looked down at him solemnly, her arms crossed and putting her weight to one side. "I know that," she said. "Why do you think I had to be Cecile to act like that towards you? You wouldn't believe it."

Arnold gaped at her. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't totally dismiss her after how comfortable he was around her minutes before. He hadn't ever been able to act like that around a girl, know when she was joking and when she was serious, able to give and take comments about anything, and just a whole lot of other stuff, until tonight.

"I get it if you think it impossible," Helga said, turning her head to the side. "Just hear me out for a second. I've liked you for years. Seriously, I have, since about as far back as I can remember! Years ago I thought that if I acted like I hated you no one would know the better, especially you. That's why I've been the tough bully, because I don't want anyone to mess with me about you. Come to think of it, I don't want them to mess with me about anything, but especially you." She took a moment to look at Arnold, who was now listening intently. She gulped and continued. "Last year Cecile was me trying to just spend a night with you. I tried to impress you, but I never thought you'd look for me again this year. Well, I hoped, but didn't think you would. Tonight was even more me than last Valentine's Day. So… what do you say?" Smiling as well as she could, she held her arms out in wait.

This was seriously wrong. A huge part of Arnold's brain wanted to wake up. The other part told him that he did like her, and a lot. But it was Helga! Helga liked him… he had to stop repeating his thoughts. The facts were Helga liked him and he liked Helga, but he didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to dwell too long on those facts anymore.

"Arnold. Can you say?"

Yes! Yes, it was true, he knew it, but how on earth could he… it was just too strange… it was Helga! No matter what he thought about the past night, about how he'd really started to like-like Cecile and care for her, something in him always screamed, "No! It's Helga!" It made no sense, though…

He looked up at the Helga he now saw. Her eyes were pleading but determined, as if no matter what, she would be hurt, but she'd find some way to recover… somehow.

Did she really think he'd hurt her? It made no sense!

Since when did anything make perfect sense? It doesn't make _any_ sense.

Look at tonight! It's not Cecile! It's Helga!

There is no Cecile.

"Helga Pataki," he started, leaning forward, one elbow on his knee, "you are the slyest, sneakiest, most resourceful, conniving girl I have ever met for pulling something like that off."

Helga didn't know whether to be confused, stunned, or flattered. She lifted her brow, not knowing exactly what was going on, but having a fleeting feeling. "What?" she asked.

"You pulled it off." He laughed to himself. "I had no idea that it was you this whole time! And now that I do know, it doesn't matter."

Time stopped for Helga. Her lungs quit functioning, and she didn't blink for what seemed like an eternity. Arnold was smiling and it wasn't a sorry smile. The only words Helga could choke out were, "Does that mean…?"

"Do you really think that I'm the kind of guy who would ditch you after finding out the only thing fake was before now?" Arnold asked. He blinked, trying to make clearer sense of his own words. It only took two seconds.

Helga broke out into a grin and leaned her head back. She stepped back with her arms out open blissfully. "Yes," she choked out. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…." She spun around and squealed quietly. Arnold like-liked her. Arnold liked HER, knowing who SHE was. It was almost too good to be true.

"Uh, Helga?"

"Huh?" Helga snapped back into reality and looked at Arnold, who was starting to get worried. "Oh," she said, embarrassed. How could she forget he was there? "Sorry."

A heavy silence fell around them for a moment. Finally, Helga got the guts to finally ask.

"So… are we…?"

"Yeah, I guess…."

"I can't believe…."

"Me, too…."

"What on earth…."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "What just happened?" Helga asked, doubling over.

"I don't know!" Arnold was leaning on the bench for support. "I think we just…."

"Did we?" Helga asked, still seeming shocked. "Wow, this is so weird."

"_You _think it's weird?" Arnold asked wildly. "I'm still wondering about the past seven years of my life with you!"

"Yeah, well, it's still pretty crazy!" Helga looked behind her for the sake of it and exhaled audibly. "Wow, this is hard to get over, isn't it?"

Arnold leaned his head to one side, staring at Helga's head. Helga looked back at him and asked, "What? What is it?"

Arnold pointed to Helga's hair almost as innocently as a young child. "That ribbon… why do you wear it? You know you really do look good with your hair down."

"Oh, gee," Helga said sarcastically. She was happy all the same. "I wonder if he just said I didn't look good right now?"

"No, I didn't mean that!" Arnold said quickly, trying to correct himself. "I just want to know. You look older without the ribbon."

Helga bit her tongue slightly, wondering if she should tell him. She looked off into the distance, about to tell him, when he eyes almost popped out of her head. "Good-idea-taking-it-off-hide-me!" She whipped the ribbon off her head as fast as possible and shook her hair, trying to bring the curls back to the original state.

"What's wrong?" Arnold asked, before he heard someone call out.

"Arnold! Hey, Arnold! Wow, what a coincidence, huh?"

"Oh, no…"

"It's Gerald!" Helga hissed angrily. "What's he doing here?" She turned around quickly so her back was to him, only sneaking a peak over her shoulder. "Oh, yeah."

Arnold nodded hurriedly. "Yeah, he's with Phoebe. The dance must be over."

"Already? What time is it, anyway?" Helga shook her head and slapped herself. "What am I saying? Arnold, stall! He's not supposed to know!"

Gerald was running down the path to them, waving his arms excitedly. For a moment Phoebe looked confused, but then her eyes widened in realization. She ran after Gerald and grabbed his sleeve, using all of her strength to hold him back. Arnold couldn't hear them, but he was too far away to hear them. When they got into hearing range, he could hear Phoebe desperately trying to convince him to leave them alone. "Come on, Gerald! We're interrupting! It's unethical," she panted as he pulled out of her grip, shrugging an apology and walking the rest of the way to the pair.

"Hey!" he said happily, reaching Arnold. Helga was still a few feet back, pretending to be fiddling with a loose hem on the ribbons on her arm. Her hair had returned to half-hearted waves.

"Uh… hi, Gerald," Arnold said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "You… remember Cecile, right?"

Gerald nodded and turned to the hidden Helga, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Arnold?" he asked. He leaned forward and whispered, "Is she okay? She looks jumpy."

Finally Phoebe caught up to them, looking very frightened for Helga. She looked up at Arnold warily, as if testing him. When he realized she wanted to know if Helga had revealed herself, he thinned his lips and returned the worried look. Helga didn't want Gerald to know who she was yet. Arnold couldn't tell, but now that her hair was almost straight again, would he know? He didn't want to risk it.

"Gerald," Phoebe said quietly, pleadingly. "We have to go back. Its getting late and Rhonda invited us to her after party, remember?"

"Come on Phoebe," he replied, "I just want to meet the mystery girl."

"You know," said a voice behind them. Helga still faced the opposite way, but Arnold could imagine the look on her face. "Maybe you should listen to her. You don't want to miss Rhonda's parties. They're usually so great." It may have been Arnold's imagination, but he thought the last part came through gritted teeth.

Gerald looked at Helga's back sideways. "Why are you British now?" He took a step forward to her, trying to see the front of her face.

"Because she needed a new accent," Arnold answered quickly. He gripped Gerald's shoulders and tried to pull him back. If he couldn't, hopefully Gerald would get the hint that he'd find out later. It took her long enough to be able to tell him. There was no way she could be ready to let someone else know in one night.

Shaking himself away from Arnold's grip, Gerald bounded forward and turned to face Phoebe and Arnold. "What's your deal, guys?" he asked. "I'm just curious."

"No, seriously!" Helga exclaimed, taking a step forward and turning her face to the right. "They're helping, not hurting."

Gerald jumped to Helga's left, and she turned her whole body right. He bent around her, trying to glimpse her face. The sequence went on for a while as Arnold tried to pull on Gerald's arm to get him away. Phoebe just looked on, telling Gerald she wanted to go to Rhonda's now. Helga, still holding up her accent, was saying mild threats to him. Finally, Helga stumbled and Gerald had extra time to look at her. He peered for a moment. "Hey, Cecile. Remember me?" he said. "You saw me…" He stopped and squinted his eyes again. Helga turned quickly to Arnold, knowing the jig was up. Gerald's jaw dropped and he took a step back, taking in the whole picture. Arnold's face fell into his hands and Phoebe bit her lip, looking away.

"Oh my God," Gerald said. He was even more stunned than Helga had been only minutes ago. "Helga! Helga is Cecile?" He said to Arnold, "This is Cecile, right?"

Helga bit her lip and preoccupied herself by inspecting a daisy. This was seriously not what she wanted to happen. Of course, he was going to find out tomorrow anyway. At Gerald Field. Helga gasped. She had totally forgotten about the deal she and Arnold had made. Did Arnold forget, too? If he remembered, would he want to do it?

"No," Arnold said. Just as Gerald began to sigh in relief, he added, "This is Helga. About ten minutes ago, Cecile ceased to exist."

_Let's see how he'll take this_, Helga thought with malevolence. She knew it wouldn't be taken well at all.

"WHAT?" Gerald screamed. He pointed accusingly at Helga and said, "Arnold, this is Helga! You just went on a date with Helga! Again! Who knows what you did when you thought she was Cecile. Are you fully getting what's going on here?"

Arnold nodded.

"You realize this is Helga G. Pataki, your tormentor and harasser, who has never shown any mercy on any of our fellow students."

"I resent that!" Helga said boldly. Then it seemed to occur to her again the situation, and her boldness left her quickly. "I show mercy to him sometimes," she mumbled, "and a whole lot to Phoebe."

"Whatever. Arnold." Gerald walked up to him and leaned down a bit so they were eye to eye. "You don't actually believe this is true, do you? That Helga could possibly be as compassionate and nice as Cecile?"

Finally, after being so quiet for so long, Phoebe let her voice be heard. "Gerald, don't act like this," she said. She walked over to the two of them and poked Gerald with her gloved hand. "You rarely talk to Helga as I do, and if I may say, you're not one to judge how she can act. This is a personal matter. One we should not be interrupting, so if you don't mind, I'd really like to go to Rhonda's house now." She gave a try at another helpless tug at Gerald's suit's sleeve, put he pulled away.

"Phoebe, I'm sorry, but you just wait, okay?" he said. He returned his attention to Arnold, who was looking bored already. "Arnold, you liked Cecile. But you can't possibly like Helga!" Arnold gave Gerald a look that clearly said And-why-not? Gerald's jaw dropped almost as far as it did when he found out who Cecile was. "You don't, do you?"

Arnold smiled mischievously. "And what if I did?"

Quickly Gerald jumped back as if he just heard Arnold was contaminated with a deadly disease. He flailed his arms out and his shoulders shivered. "You did not just say that," he said trying to convince himself. "You did not just say that."

"Oh, please, Geraldo, get a grip," Helga said. She walked impatiently over to stand next to Arnold. She looked at Gerald with the same bored look. She really didn't need him making a scene. There was enough of one going on in her head. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe Cecile isn't just a made up character, that maybe, just possibly, and itsy bit," she held up her index finger and thumb about a centimeter or two from each other, "Cecile could really be me?"

Gerald didn't say anything. He just stared at the two of them for a moment, bewildered. At last he said, "Phoebe? Why don't we go to Rhonda's party?"

"You won't say anything at all, will you Gerald?" Helga said the threat brightly.

"I won't have to. They'll find out soon enough," he mumbled, taking Phoebe's hand in his and starting to walk away grouchily. Phoebe looked over her shoulder and gave an encouraging smile to Helga. Then she looked at Arnold and winked. They disappeared over the hill.

Arnold sighed and fell back onto the bench, wiping his forehead. He then started laughing quietly. Helga sat next to him and looked at him like he was the oddest person on earth. "What are you doing?"

"That was close!" he said. He leaned forward and rested on his knees again. "Very, very close. That's about how I figured Gerald acting when I told him." He laughed again. "Man, how are we supposed to let everyone know that… you know."

Helga smiled meekly and laughed too. "Don't know," she said, though in her mind the answer was already there. She had to say it, just had to. "Arnold, don't you remember?"

"Remember what, exactly?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "The deal I made with you. The other day on the playground."

Arnold backtracked through his memories until he found it. Helga had given him money for his date, the one he thought she wouldn't be attending, in exchange for her seeing them kiss at Gerald Field. Except know she wouldn't be seeing it. Everyone else would be. It all became clear exactly why she gave him the money. She liked him so much she wanted him to kiss her publicly. He felt like he could've slapped his face for forgetting it. "Helga, you little sneak!" he said accusingly. He threw his arms up and stood from the bench. "You had quite a plan for tonight, didn't you."

"Yeah, and I can see you really like it," Helga mumbled with bitter sarcasm, resting an elbow on the armrest and looking away.

Arnold shook his head and laughed. "You know, this whole thing really is crazy."

Helga looked up surprised. It wasn't the first time that night. "Okay," she said slowly, wondering why he was laughing. "Look, if you want to break the deal, it doesn't-"

"Helga, a deal's a deal," he said, smiling again. "Can't change it, so I might as well live with it."

She squealed and bounced in her seat. "That's wonderful!" Then she caught herself from skipping blissfully and corrected her expression. No insane happiness, she reminded herself. "I mean, you know, that's…"

"Wonderful?" Arnold offered.

"Yes!" Helga said. She sprang up and twirled around once more, one foot lifted and flying as she turned. She giggled softly and turned to Arnold. Her mood changed drastically. "Why, though?"

"Huh?" Why? What was she asking why for?

"Why are you taking to this so easy?" Helga asked. Arnold had gone through everything so quickly. He already seemed used to the fact that Helga was Cecile when just before he said he didn't care he was completely freaked out. "It went by so quickly. You've barely asked me any questions except for why I did it. It can't be that simple. It just can't."

"Why not?" Arnold asked. "Is it wrong that I accepted it already?"

"No! Not even." Helga moaned and kicked at the dirt frustrated. "I like that you still like me. But really, aren't you still wondering about the way I've treated you? Like Gerald said, I've been on tough person on you."

"Yeah, you could say that," Arnold said under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear. She glared half-heartedly, but was still expecting an answer. "Okay, so, I guess that you already kind of explained that one, didn't you? It was because you liked me that you did it. So why did you even ask me that question?"

She hesitated. "I don't know," she said. "I guess this is still too good for me to believe easily."

Arnold sighed. He could definitely relate to that. Tomorrow he had to publicly kiss Helga. For fifty bucks and a date. Great, now his head was spinning again.

"Can I practice?" he asked her, almost shyly.

Helga gave him an odd look. She was confused. "That seems a bit random, you know. Practice what?"

He could feel the heat begin to rise to his cheekbones. "For tomorrow."

Helga's stomach did a somersault. Not for the first time that night. Unless she was mistaken, she could see a vicious blush forming on Arnold's face. "Oh." She had to fight to keep her balance. "Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah."

The next thing either of them knew their faces were a few inches from each other. Helga was struggling to hold her consciousness. This would be a horrible time to faint.

It wasn't the moonlit boat ride on a crystal clear lake Helga always wanted their first kiss to be like. It wasn't long and passionate, and it didn't melt away into a few more kisses. The looming thought that he just wanted to get used to it before the next day, which wasn't at all likely, wasn't a part of the daydream either. But for the second that it happened, Helga knew it blew all of her imaginative, romantic dreams out of the water. It did for Arnold, too.

(Readers: Gasp!) Oh, not this routine again. Look, the freaking story was 3,964 words, and 17,808 characters long! Not counting the author's notes. (Readers: It was only that short?) You know, I think I just give up. (Screaming comes from off stage. Brunette runs across the stage, blue sugar covering her mouth, screaming wildly and stumbling over props. Behind her, a group of geeky teenagers, with nothing better to do, follow, chanting their battle cry.) Stares oddly, blinks, and looks back at screen Oh, well! Until next time, friends! (Readers: First you leave us at the time they get picked up. Then we're stranded at the time of revelation. And then the kissing scene?) I know. I'm getting good at these cliffhangers, huh? (Real Readers: Actually, very few of us are saying these things like they're scripted. And I'm sure that none of Phebga's fans are ever saying boo-ga. Please stop with your little scenes and proceed with the writing of the next chapter.) (Phebga: And since when do any of the dorks on this site talk all professionally like that, huh? Tell me THAT!) (Phebga's Readers: Besides, it's Boo-GA! Don't tamper the caps, chief.) Taps foot impatiently (Phebga: Steeling the spotlight again?) We had a talk about this little stunt, didn't we? (Readers: SHUT UP AND LET ME REVIEW!) My pleasure! Only 60-some of these words are mine, anyway. (Phebga: Don't get happy with the word count button, okay?) lifts eyebrow at blue sugar on her mouth Yeah. You should talk.

Briana Loves Foot Ball Head (Thinking of changing the name, what do you think?)


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